Survivor's Diary - New Pages
by LaurenRoover
Summary: Sequel to 'Survivor's Diary'. The slightly insane redhead returns with a new diary, new adventures and old foes. Starts somewhere in season 4, we'll see where we'll end up this time. Updates on Fridays!
1. Prologue

**Hello, hello, whazz hangin'?**

 **Back again, yes. With new material, and hopefully another fun series to write. I got some great ideas and some more craziness, which I hope you'll like. For as far as uploads go; I try to keep it weekly, but I can't make any promises or foretell my future writer's blocks.**

 **Enjoy this small prologue for now! ;)**

 **(Disclaimer; not my stuff)**

Allo, allo, allo.

Well, well, well. Look what I found here. Well, of course you can't see it, because you have eyes. And even if you did, you would have to look into a mirror to see it, because it's you.

A NOTEBOOK.

Still intact and pretty cute, if you ask me. Pink, with some cute flowers(I already wrote 'cute', didn't I? Oh well, no one's gonna judge my writing skills anyway. Dary-doo ain't here to judge me either. Now I wrote 'judge' twice. Great. I'm doing great.)

It does not have a lock on it, tough. Or should I say 'You don't have a lock on you'?

Point is; I might have to watch it/you, because of all the people around me. I was pretty sure they were walkers when I first noticed them, but they're people. They're pretty nice to talk to. And I sometimes get the feeling that they're trying to protect me somehow.

Like when there's other people nearby, they warn me that it could be dangerous. We've lost some of our group members due to some of these dangerous people.

Oh, fun fact; Freddie, my bro, is here too. I was pretty sure he I saw him dying before my eyes, but he's here, alive and well. He changed a lot, though. He's gotten skinnier, and he chooses walking over driving, which I'm okay with. I don't have the most pleasant memories of his driving skills.

Since I'm new in the gang, I try to stay close to Fredster, but I think I'm blending in very well. There's this girl called Alicia, which I really like. She can run really fast. And there's Pedro, who's an excellent sneaker. He's caught some bad people of guard and saved our asses multiple times.

The funny thing is; there isn't really a leader in this group of people. Everyone just goes along with the flow. Sometimes Jessica says where we need to go, and there's no arguing, we just follow. Other times its Freddie, or Logan.

Sometimes, people wander off and we lose them as we continue, but we never go looking for them. If they lose the flow, they're doomed. I like that ideology. You're in charge of your own life, you're not responsible for others, neither are others for you. It's fucking amazing.

The only thing that bothers me a little about this group, is that they eat other people. And when they do, they do it violently. It's awesome to watch, them jumping over one person and just clenching their teeth in the flesh and the screams and the blood and the gunshots….but I don't want to tag along. I tried, once, but it didn't taste very nice. I'd prefer a muffin. Muffins above all.

I love this new gang. Fuck those prison people. This is my new home.


	2. Chapter 1

**Oi!**

 **Wooow chapter 1 is finally here! This is one of those chapters to set the story before it actually begins, just like the first one. After this one, the real thing will start :)**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own TWD)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

Konichiwa.

I had a nightmare last night. It was really unusual, since I never really have nightmares. Or maybe I have them but I don't think of them as nightmares. Or maybe I can't separate them from reality. Maybe I am living in a nightmare. Would be a really cool one if that were true.

Anyways, in this nightmare-kind-of-dream, I saw lots of smoke and blood. The last one isn't that irregular, but there were like fountains of it. And I heard music coming from somewhere, like actual classical music. And the blood fountains came from heads.

I was walking in a field, with a sword. Like a real knight's sword from the dark ages. There were walkers everywhere, and I just swung my awesome weapon around and their heads fell on the ground. From the gap in their necks the bloods spilled up like a fountain. The music seemed to adjust to the appearances of the fountains.

There was a DUM and then blood spilled up. With DUM DUM two fountains did. It was really awesome.

For some reason, I turned around, and there was this fence and some bright light, which was rather annoying. I saw something coming from the light. First it was like a blur, then a shadow, and later a human. He was holding a gun, and his head was bowed, as if he was really tired and wanted to sleep but also stand in some badass pose. Then there was a tank and then I woke up.

The end.

Allo, allo.

I found a dog. Or a wolf. Maybe it's a husky. He's cute. The group accepts him as well. In fact, they don't really seem to notice him that much.

He seems to be a lone survivor, like me before. He did wear a belt, but there was no name on it, or a number I could call. So I think it's best if he just sticks with us for now.

He has this one black spot on his right eye, which is adorable. He looks like a pirate, and that's why I'll call him Zoro. I've promoted him as a general of my royal candy army of the Muffin Kingdom.

Yo, yo, poo.

I had the dream/nightmare again. This time, the fence got broken down, and the man stepped over it. I think I recognize him from somewhere, but I'm not sure.

Zoro had a fight with someone. It happened after he lost his belt. The others seem to have problems with him too, so I made him a new belt, similar to his old one. It's made from Jerry's appendix.

Hola señor ( are you a guy by the way? I don't see any jewels hanging around, but there's no hole either)

I'm pretty sure I know who the guy is, but I can't really recall his name. He seems to have broken his hand or something, because it was wrapped in a bandage. Maybe they got short on foot and tried to eat himself. That's what I would do.

Gütentag.

Zoro saved me today. Gary grabbed my arm and wanted to eat it, and Zoro jumped in and killed him. He's so reliable. He's promoted to councilman of my Royal Ministry of Defence.

Goedemorgen.

This girl came to me, telling me that she died. Someone killed her. The man is dead as well. She also said that a lot of other people died. I told her I didn't really care, but she said I should, since someone called out my name before she died. When I asked her how she knew my name, she vanished. It was a great conversation.

Hi hi sir.

I know who called out my name. She's dead, very dead.

Hey hey.

Everyone is dead. I killed them. Zoro helped me, he told me we'd be able to make it on our own, just the two of us. I think he's right.

Hellooooooooooo

They destroyed the castle. The guy from my dream did. The guy I can't remember the name from. There were also tanks. And smoke and lots of blood, like in the dream. But there wasn't a sword though.

Update; I found a sword. It's awesome. Zoro thinks so too.

Yooooooooo

I'm just gonna go look for the people who destroyed my castle. I told them to take good care of it, and they didn't.

Zoro said that they're not real friends if they can't even keep a simple promise like that. I never really said they were my friends. I don't even remember who they are, but he's still right. I can't just let bygones be bygones. Someone has to pay. Zoro said he'll help. He'll always be at my side.

And now that I got this sword, I'll be badass. I think I'm gonna give it a cool name, but I need some time to come up with one.

His name is Boo.

 _Rick_

I blink, desperately trying to get the blood out of my eyes. I don't know how my legs are moving, I can't feel them. It's like they're not even there.

My ears seem to be stuffed with wax or something. I can't hear a thing. Only my own breath.

I can feel that there is someone with me. He's breathing too. He's smaller than I am.

The reason my legs are moving is because he is moving forward, and dragging me along with it. I cough, the taste of iron filling my mouth. It's over.

"Don't look back" I mumble. "Don't look back."


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys!**

 **I know, I know, it's been a while, and as always; I apologize (I sometimes get reeaaally tired of repeating myself but life sucks sometimes). Between work and school I found an hour to write this chappie for y'all, so I hope you enjoy!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own TWD)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Beth_

It's gone. Everything. Our home, our safety, our dreams, our wishes, everything. I feel so stupid for thinking it would last this time. How could I be so stupid? Was it because my dad told me so? My dad who's…

"Let's just keep going" Daryl's voice sounds from far away. I take a slow breath and focus on the two wings at the back of Daryl's jacket. Almost my guardian angel, literally. I don't know if I would've survived this long if it wasn't for him.

We've been running for days, maybe even weeks. Days and night flow over in one another, I can't keep track of time. Daryl says we should get as far away from the prison as possible, since it's now becoming a hive for starving corpses. I actually think we should stick around the area, we might come across someone we know.

It's the first time I'm actually able to think straight ever since….well, you know. I just kept going and going, without taking a break. I'm exhausted, and I got the feeling that Daryl is feeling it too, because he slowed down the pace a lot. We might have to find a place to rest soon, or else we'll both faint.

Daryl stops abruptly, and swings his crossbow from his shoulder. He hears something I haven't.

"What is it?" I whisper. He holds up a fist, gesturing me to 'shut up', if I were to translate it to 'Daryl-language.

"Shit" he grumbles, and turns around. When he passes me he grabs my arm and starts running, dragging me a long like a bag of dirt. "Dozen. Gotta run."

"Back to where we came from?!"

"Ain't no other way, Beth."

And here we go again. I have the feeling we're going in circles. Sometimes, I don't even feel scared anymore. It's almost become a custom, to just run for your life every minute of the day. And the thought of getting caught doesn't sound that terrifying anymore. If it happens, it happens. But that doesn't mean I won't do anything to survive. Because I have hope that someday, everything will be fine. If you don't have hope then what's the point of living? I'll do whatever it takes to find the others and to live through all of it.

But sometimes the idea of it all being over sounds tempting…

We enter an open field, very dangerous in a situation like this. Daryl gives me a push forward.

"I'll watch the back, you the front" he pants. I glance over my shoulder, seeing a few walkers still following us. The distance between us and them keeps expanding, and after a while I can't see them anymore. My chest hurts, my feet hurt, my back hurts, my head hurts.

I'm not even sure if they lost track of us, but I don't care. I let myself collapse in the grass, wheezing like a dying animal. A second later Daryl falls down next to my, breathing like a man twice his age.

We both lay there, on our backs, faces up, just breathing. I want to close my eyes so bad, but I'm not in the mood for surprises. I have to stay alert.

Daryl is the first to get up. Even though it's slowly, he manages to stand up straight. He holds out his hand, helping me on my feet.

"I think we're good for now" he says, searching the area with his eyes. "Let's find a place to rest, it'll be dark soon."

'Rest'. A phrase I haven't heard in a long time. "Are you sure that's a good idea? We gotta stay focused."

"You can't be focused if you can't walk" he grumbles in the way he always does. "Besides; I'm tired as hell."

He's already starting to walk, almost casually, as if he's searching for a new house to buy.

"Daryl" I say, trying to sound mad. "Don't you think that, now that we got walkers of our backs for a minute, we should start tracking down the others? There must be some survivors."

"Can't track if you haven't eaten" he grumbles over his shoulder, while kicking a tree with the back of his shoe.

I suddenly get remembered of the emptiness in my stomach. A human can't survive on just air, he got that right. But I really think my plan is better than his.

"It's gonna be dark soon as well" Daryl continues, as he sits down with his back against the trunk. "Can't track if there's no light. And even if we had a flashlight; only idiots would use it."

Slowly, I start walking over. I feel kinda dizzy as well, but I'm not telling _him_ about that.

I sit down against a fallen trunk, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Can we at least make a fire?"

"Fire's fine" he replies, his eyes closed. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll take first watch."

I chuckle. "Shouldn't your eyes be open then?"

"If you shut down one of your senses, the others will improve. I can hear better if my eyes are closed."

"Whatever" I sigh, as I lay down my head on the grass. I don't want any more stupid discussions.

Dearest diary of mine,

Today, something exciting happened. Zoro and I were just strolling through the woods like we normally do, meeting new people here and there, killing a few as well, no biggie. But today…well let me tell you, it's the next best thing.

Remember TV? As in television? Well, I used to watch it a lot when I was little. There were a lot of fun programs about people that screwed up their life and others, and it was lot of fun. I found something just like that.

First, I saw like this kind of big guy, with dark hair and huge arms. He looked filthy, but his awesome weapon totally covered that; he had a fricking crossbow! The real deal, with arrows and shit. And there's this little whistle that goes off when he fires it and I'm loving it. I had to cover my mouth to prevent myself from screaming of the awesomeness. Zoro got kinda mad at me after, but he loves me so we're good.

Behind the guy was this blonde girl, about the same age as me. She looked really, really pale and super thin, as if she was auditioning for the new season of 'America's Next Top Model'(I used to watch that show a lot so I know). There wasn't much special about her, just that she hangs out with crossbow-dude.

They got chased by some guys, and they seemed really scared. They were all running and stuff. Zoro and I were hiding in a tree and we saw them pass, and we waited for them to be really, really far away before we climbed down.

I told Zoro that I wanted to know what crossbow-dude and white Tyra Banks were up to, but he told me it'd be better if we went the other direction. I didn't like that idea, because I was curious, but he told me it would be better not to get involved with them. If there were people chasing them like that they must've done something bad.

I asked Zoro if I could just spy on them, and he said it would be alright. But I can't talk with them, which is kind of a bummer if you ask me.

By the time we got back on the ground, I kinda lost track of them. I asked Zoro if he could track them down, but he said the chasers ruined the trail. So now I gotta find them myself.

I tried asking some people along the way, but they didn't say much. Such assholes nowadays. After a mile or two, I decided it would be better to look higher up. I asked Zoro if he could keep watch for any dangerous people, so I could climb up this huge oak. He wasn't happy about me climbing up and he basically tried to kill me by breaking all the branches I touched, but I think that he kinda subdued after I reached the top.

At first, I saw nothing, because it was very dark and the moon was still mad at me, so he didn't show up. But I did see this small light not far away, and I thought I could see crossbow-dude sitting there.

After a fierce battle with the stupid oak, Zoro and I continued our search. After a while, I could see the light clearly, and it was a fire, which made me happy, because fire is nice.

I think they kind of heard me coming, because the dude has his weapon pointed at my head this very moment.

 _Daryl_

"I said put it down!" I push my crossbow almost in her face, but she keeps holding the book in front of her.

"You're scaring her" Beth says, laying a hand on my arm. "Just…try talking, instead of growling."

The girl giggles softly, with an awfully high pitched voice. Beth backs away, her hand shaking. This is just messed up.

"Who're you?" I ask, but I don't let my guard down. The girl looks up over the edge of the book, where she covers most of her face with.

"I'm not telling" she says, with a trembling voice. I feel a shiver go down my spine. I glance at Beth, and I see her think the same.

The girl giggles again, her whole body shaking. She's wrapped in two blankets with both different patterns, as a sad attempt to make a dress. She's barefooted, her feet covered in blood, dirt and soaring wounds. Her hair hangs around her like an old curtain, her eyes piercing through as two lightbulbs. She must've hit her head a few times, because some places form crusts of blood on her skull. Some of her fingers, which are wrapped around the cover of the book she's holding, seem to be broken in multiple places. She's a mess, even more than we are. Good thing I myself smell like hell, I can't imagine the aroma's coming from her.

She suddenly closes the book, by that revealing her entire face to us. I hear Beth gasp behind me, and I have to turn my head to keep myself from staring.

There's a cut, a really deep cut. It goes from her chin up to just below her nose, over her lips. It's not healed, it's not even treated. It should've been stitched long ago, but she obviously didn't bother to do so. Her mouth is swollen due to an infection, the skin around the wound has turned into a darkish blue colour.

She's searching under her blankets with her hands, dropping the book on the ground. She's mumbling in herself, tiny words I can't understand. I glance over to Beth, who has tears in her eyes.

"Look, Zoro" the girl we used to know says. She's holding a stuffed animal, something that looks like a wolf, in front of my face. "The people found me. Should we kill them?"

A few seconds pass till I realize she's talking to the toy. I resume my grip on my crossbow, finger on the trigger.

"Don't pull anything funny" I say, while taking a step forward. "Just 'cause we know you doesn't mean we won't hurt you."

"No?" It sounds almost disappointed. She lowers the toy, and holds it in front of her face, as if she wants to talk to it directly. "Why not? They don't seem that much fun from up close. Can't we just go?"

I frown. "What the…."

"They know me? Did he say that? Oh, I wasn't listening, sorry…" She nods to her 'friend'. "Maybe you're right. We should stick around for a little while."

"Vicky!" Beth suddenly shouts. I turn around, putting my hand over her mouth before she does anything else stupid. It causes me to turn my back on the girl for a moment, but I don't have a choice.

"Shut up, you're only making it worse" I hiss.

"So you guys do know me!" the girl says, sounding happy, as if she's gotten a present. "Well, that's just wonderful! Can you tell me who I am?"


	4. Chapter 3

**Yes, a weekly upload! How is this possible?!**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Vinnie_

Dan told me to wait till he got back. He said he would look for Lacy, his girlfriend, and then the three of us would get on the bus and leave. So I stayed in our cell and waited for him to come back.

There was a lot of noise outside and I was really scared. There was a man with Michonne's sword and he…now Hershel…

It gave me nightmares when I fell asleep. It took Dan a long time to get back. I hoped he was ok.

The shouting and the gunshots stopped after a while and it got awfully silent. I couldn't hear the walkers through the thick prison walls, but I knew they were there. I once took a peek and I saw loads of them on the courtyard. I decided it would be better to stay inside for a while. There was food here, but I tried not to eat too much, because Dan would be back with Lacy, and they were probably hungry too. And the other people on the bus as well.

When I wake up after a short nap, I feel very sad. It's cold in the prison and the blankets smell. I wish I could sleep and forget, but I have nightmares all the time.

At some point, I can hear footsteps, which make me even more scared. The walkers finally got inside.

I jump off the bed and kneel down. Dan used to keep a knife here somewhere and I really need it. I've never killed a walker before, but I've seen others do it all the time. I'm sure I can do it as well.

The footsteps get closer to my cell, and I freeze. I'm sure it's right around the corner, I can't run away. I can't find the knife, so I can't fight. It's gonna get to me.

I stare at the doorstep, expecting the walker to appear any time now. The first thing I see is the barrel of a large gun. But walkers don't have guns, especially not this one. It's a machine gun, one the people that go out on supply runs use. But the people with the tank had a couple too.

I can't breathe, that's how scared I feel. I push my back against the wall, hoping I can disappear through it, but it's not working. I can see the beginning of a foot over the doorstep, and then a face.

Glenn drops his arms, his face in shock. "Calvin?"

I don't know why, but I start crying, but I'm really happy it's him. Glenn's here. I hide my face in my hands, and I hear Glenn sigh of relief.

"Thank god I'm not the only one here." He kneels down next to me, and lays his hand on my shoulder. "Are there any others still around?"

I wipe my face and shake my head. "No. Dan said he'd come back, but he didn't."

Glenn nods, and stands up. "I see. Come with me, we're gonna gather some stuff and then we'll go."

He holds out his hand and helps me up. I'm really glad.

Next to mine and Dan's cell is Glenn and Maggie's, we're neighbours. Glenn tells me to go look for some food that's still in the cellblock as he goes to grab his stuff. He smiles at me, but not really. I know how that works, it's what Dan does all the time. His mouth smiles, but he doesn't.

I find some energy bars here and there, and bottles of water, and some beans. I don't really like beans, that's why I haven't eaten them while waiting for Dan. Dan does like them though, so he'll probably want them when we find him.

With my hands full of cans and bottles I return to Glenn, but when I find him, I don't think he wants to go anymore. He's holding a picture of Maggie in front of his face and his eyes are teary. His face is all sweaty and he looks really pale. He was really sick before, so I understand, but this really scares me. I put the stuff I'm holding on the ground and enter the cell.

"Glenn?" I say after a while. He turns his head to look at me and sniffs his nose. I sit down next to him on the bed.

"I'm sorry, I just…"

I smile. "It's ok. I'm scared too."

He wipes his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure you are. All alone in this dump."

"But I'm not as scared as before" I quickly say. "I feel safer with one of the grownups around."

"Me too."

I frown. "But you are a grownup yourself."

Glenn chuckles. "In your eyes maybe, but on the inside I'm just as much as a little boy as you are."

I think about that for a little while. "No, I don't think so. Dan is a little boy, you're not. Dan never cried about anything after my mom died. But I think crying is ok. It makes you feel better. When I cry, I feel like all that I feel just comes out, and after I feel like I can think again. As if took away some of the trash that's blocking me from coming up with a solution to my problems. Dan is still in trouble because he hasn't cried so he can't think. That's why he's a boy. But you cry, so you can think about everything after, so you're not a boy."

Glenn stares at the picture, before carefully putting it in a side pocket of the backpack. "You're really wise for your age, you know that?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I just think about the things my dad used to say to me." I bow my head. Thinking about those times makes me sad. "I used to get bullied a lot, but I didn't tell my parents about it. My father would always scold us if Dan or I was crying. He'd call us weak, or a sad excuse for a man. My mother would always comfort us, but my dad never. But one day I couldn't help it, and I came home sobbing my eyes out. My dad was annoyed, but when I told him he said he was proud of me. I asked if he thought I was weak, but he shook his head. He said: 'I'm glad you told me. It may've taken a while, but you opened up. I know I haven't been easy on you and your brother lately, but you guys aren't weak. Crying isn't weakness, it means you've been strong for too long.'"

I sigh, lifting my head. Glenn lays a hand on my shoulder. "Your dad sounds awesome."

I nod. "Yeah, he was. I just wish he would've said the same thing to Dan."

Glenn stands up from the bed, swinging the backpack over his shoulder. "I think you can tell him that when we'll find him and the others. Because we'll find them."

After that, he told me to sit on the stairs and guard, so he could go look for some special things we needed. I was supposed to scream if anything appeared in the cellblock. He gave me a knife for when I would have to protect myself, and I hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

"Cal, it's me." I'm ever so glad he returns. He has his arms full with armour pieces. "Ok, stand up. I'm gonna put this on you. It might not fit everywhere, but it's only for a little while."

He's right, everything's way too big. We have to tape the chest plate to keep it from sliding off, and cut a big part of the protective trousers, so there isn't much left. The helmet keeps falling forward in front of my eyes, but according to Glenn I definitely need it if we're going out there.

When we're done putting the armour on, I feel like I'm wrapped in plastic like a Christmas present. I can barely move, but I'm safe from the walkers.

Glenn hands me the knife back, and pushes the helmet a little back. "It's kind of adorable."

I chuckle. "But I'm supposed to look bad ass, like you."

He genuinely laughs. "Nah, you're way out of my league. It takes many years and much effort to become a bad ass like me."

He swings a giant backpack over his shoulder and takes hold of his gun. "But enough joking around. For us to get out of here, I need you to stay close to me the whole time. If we get surrounded, just grab my hand and I'll pull you through it. Once we're out of the gates, we'll start running till I say we can stop. If we get separated…well, just don't let that happen, ok?"

 _Beth_

"Wow, I sound awesome!" Vicky says, throwing her arms in the air of excitement. "I would totally befriend myself!"

Daryl loudly inhales through his nose, and I can see he's really trying not to be rude. For now, I think it's better if he just shuts his mouth. We've only Vicky bits of her own history with us. We hadn't really forgotten about her warnings about taking good care of the prison. She doesn't seem to remember much about us and absolutely nothing about herself, and once we knew that we had to choose our words carefully, otherwise we might trigger her memory. Right now, she's the happy childish insane girl, one who could help us out. We have to keep her from becoming her psycho alter ego. That's why I'm doing the talking.

Vicky grabs the stuffed animal and holds it in front of her face. "Did you hear? I chopped a guy's leg off!"

I bite my lip. That was Daryl's first great idea, to bring up the first time Vicky ever 'helped us out'. It almost seems like he wants to cut the wrong wire of the bomb.

"But enough about me" Vicky says, carefully putting down 'Zoro', "now I wanna know about you guys. Are you guys hooking up or anything?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that!" I quickly say, and I can't look Daryl in the eyes. This is just too embarrassing.

"Are you related?" Vicky then asks. I shake my head again, and as a look at her, I try not to get distracted by the acing wound crossing her mouth.

"No, we're part of the same group of people… 'traveling' together."

Vicky's eyes widen. "Cool! A fellowship! Where are you guys going? Wait, are there more? Where are the others? Are they dead? Because most of my friends are. I killed some of them and I don't really know what happened to the others, but I'm sure they're also dead. They weren't much fun to hang out with in the first place."

"Where those friends of yours alive before you killed them?" Daryl suddenly asks mockingly.

"Daryl!" I hiss, but Vicky seems to take this question seriously. She rests her chin on her hand, the broken fingers holding her face.

"I'm not sure. They didn't talk much, and they didn't have any weapons."

Daryl nods slowly. "As I thought."

"What are you doing?" I ask Daryl, but he only shrugs.

"Just wanted to know if I'm right. And I am. She's even more insane than before."

I look at the girl next to me, who started to hum softly, not really aware of the situation. With one of her broken hands she searches through her blankets, and then opens up the little book. With a pencil, which she put somewhere in the curtains which form her hair, she starts writing. It's almost as if she forgets we're also here.

"It's better if we leave her behind" Daryl mumbles.

"Hello, she's right here!"

Daryl shakes his head. "As if she's hearing us right now. She's tripping on her own madness, she'll be out for a while."

"I'm not leaving her here" I say, staring at the stuffed animal lying at my feet. "She needs medical attention, otherwise she'll die."

He chuckles. "Don't tell me you pity her. She's lost it, there's nothing we can do for her."

"Of course we can! And she can help us too."

Daryl stares at the girl wrapped in blankets. "I'm not sure she's capable of that anymore. Just look at her face, can you imagine what the rest of her body looks like? She's broken, inside out."


	5. Chapter 4

**Howdy!**

 **Chapter 4 is here! I'm starting to get the hang of regular uploads again...let's hope it stays that way till the last chapter! :$**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Daryl_

The grass feels nice at my back. It's somewhat relaxing, and seems to massage my overworked shoulders and softly rub my feet. They know of to work it, alright.

Wait, what?

I suddenly sit up, abruptly awaking from my sleep.

"Shit" I grumble, rubbing my eyes. What a sick excuse for a hunter, falling asleep on your watch. And it's late in the morning too! I basically just lost a whole day!

"Shit" I say again, blinking against the sunlight. When my sight sharpens, I don't like what I see. Both the girls are gone. "Shit."

I crawl up, grabbing my crossbow from the ground. The fire we made last night is definitely out, not even smoking anymore, which means they left some time ago.

I kick the ashes away from the spot. How could I be so stupid? With me asleep, Vicky could do whatever she wants. If she lays a finger on Beth…

"Shit!"

I kneel down at the spot where Beth fell asleep, some a trail of footsteps starts here and continues into the forest. Crouching a little, I follow Beth's steps. She didn't encounter any walkers, which is a little reassuring. Vicky's trail follows behind hers, but soon it's two pairs of feet I have to follow.

I freeze as soon as I hear a moan coming my way. I stand up straight, holding my crossbow in front of me.

"Shit."

A walker is nearing me, but he seems to have trouble walking. When he gets closer, I see someone cut his arms off.

Disgusted, I make my way over and stab my knife in its forehead. I don't bother using arrows if it's this simple.

I hear a soft giggle above me, which I recognize immediately. I look up to see Vicky swinging her legs over a thick tree branch, her dirty stuffed animal carefully put next to her, almost as if it's a person.

"Wasn't that the best thing ever?!" she says loudly. She wraps her arms around her back and makes a growling sound, as if she wants to imitate the walker I just put down.

"Very funny" I say, aiming my crossbow at her. "What did you do to Beth?"

Vicky sighs, and leans against the tree trunk. "Is her name really 'Beth'? She looks more like a 'Jenny' to me. She's over there somewhere."

"What did you do to her?!" I ask again, louder this time. I don't have time for mind games. She shrugs, unfolding a napkin of some sort.

"Nothing. She just said she wanted to be alone for a bit. Berry?" She holds out a small fruit, like I could just take it from her hand. When I don't respond, she throws it in my face.

"Stop that!"

She grunts. "You were supposed to catch that. You're boring."

"Where is she?" I ask again. Vicky folds the napkin, grabs her toy, and jumps down.

"Follow me, grumpy. She's right there."

I keep my crossbow aimed at her head while she leads me further into the forest. I sometimes glance over at the tracks on the ground, but I can't see where they split up.

We stop at a couple of bushes, and Vicky needs to pull the leafs aside to show me where she is. Nonchalantly she points at Beth standing in front of three bodies and a walker.

"Shit." I push Vicky aside, and shoot an arrow through the walker's skull, before it can turn its head. The piece of flesh slips between its teeth as it hits the ground. I take care of another that's just about to stand up, and then step back.

It looks like a massacre has taken place. There are limbs here and there, pools of blood together with half eaten organs and pieces of clothing. In the bloody mess lies a tiny shoe.

Beth stares at it, sobbing. Her whole body shakes with every cry, and it looks like she can fall on her knees any minute now.

I shut my eyes down. I can't look at her. She was so certain this whole time that the people, or what used to be people, were still alive. Now they lie in front of her, scattered over the muddy ground.

"Let's go" is all I can say, and I start walking. There's a railroad crossing the woods, perhaps others found it and followed it. Maybe we should too.

Beth stays where she stands, as if she's not able to move. She doesn't look at me, I'm not sure she even heard what I said.

Suddenly, a hand with broken fingers grabs both Beth's shoulders. Shit, I totally forgot about her.

I want to run over to them, but then abruptly stop.

Vicky has pulled Beth in a hug. The sobbing farmer's daughter lets it happen, and before I can even blink she's crying her eyes out in the filthy shoulders of the red head.

Diary dearest,

It's much fun hanging out with these guys. The girl, Beth, (she says that's her name but she looks more like a 'Jenny' to me, or an 'Emily', or something like that) said we should go look for food. They were searching for other people of their group, and that they were losing the tracks. I said Zoro could help, since he has a very good nose and all, but 'Jenny' said she'd already found a track. She also said we should let Grumpy sleep, and that's a good thing, because I hate him. And I might accidently kill him if he's near me.

We found this whole bush full with purple berries, which taste delicious. Zoro suddenly said he smelled something weird, so we went to check it out. We found some people eating other people, no biggie. I told Jenny it would be better to leave hem be, since I don't like to get interrupted when I'm eating either, but she said it was ok. And here it comes; she wanted to be alone for a little while. What a drama queen.

As a result of that, Grumpy came running to me asking where the heck she was. I really had to resist the urge to pull out my knife and smash his skull, so instead I threw a berry at him. It wasn't very effective, although he looked pissed, which is enough satisfaction for me for one day.

Jenny turned out to be very emotional about seeing people eat. I guess she must be really hungry herself to be so affected by seeing other enjoy their meal, so I gave her a friendly hug, because Grumpy suddenly killed the people. Not that I have a problem with that, but Jenny was watching those people eat and she thought it was so beautiful it made her eyes wet, and he just had to ruin it.

I don't know why Jenny stuck around this guy for so long, he's a jerk.

He then decided he was the leader of our team and ordered us to follow him. There was this railroad which he wanted to follow for some reason, which didn't seem like a good idea to me, since there could be trains coming any second. Now you may say; but there are no machinists anymore? Ever heard of undead ones? They still wear the uniforms, so they're basically at work.

Another surprise was that there was a car standing across the railroad, basically blocking any train coming. It was totally empty, as if the person decided to commit suicide but then changed his mind. (Why would you choose to be smashed by a train? There are way more exciting ways to go. What an idiot)

Grumpy searched through the car and found a med-kit. He threw it at me, and I ducked. I assumed it was an attempt to assassinate me, which I didn't approve of. Or maybe it was payback for the berry earlier.

Jenny told me to sit down and hold my hands up. She told me to stay very quiet, because there were bad people in the area that might hurt us. It made me very anxious and I said I would like to kill them, but Jenny said it wasn't such a good idea, because they were large in numbers and very strong. So I listened, and let Jenny do whatever she wanted to do with my hands. She rolled them up in bandages, with stick between them. I don't like it, because I can barely do anything now. When she was done with one hand, I whispery asked if we could only do one hand, because I need my hands. I knew she liked all the wrapping up, because she had a smile on her face, but I just had to ruin the fun for her because I need my hands. She said it was ok, so now I have one hand with tiny branches between my fingers. I agree, they looked a bit crippled before, but it didn't bother me that much.

When done with my hand, Jenny put this sticky stuff on my mouth. It stung really bad and I wanted to say that, but then I thought about the bad people and kept it in. She nodded approvingly.

I asked when the sticky stuff had dried up if we were done, but she said she still needed to stitch it. The stitching wasn't as bad as the sticky stuff, and I kinda wanted to know what it looked like. I wondered if I could be a scarecrow from now on, which would be awesome.

But after that, we still weren't done. She wanted to put plasters on my head, because she said I heard myself really bad. I said that wasn't true, because I didn't do that. I'm not sure who did, but I hate them.

Jenny then told Grumpy to go away for some reason, and then she asked me if I could undress myself. But I said it was too cold and I didn't want to, but she insisted. When she wanted rip my dress, I told her to back off. She didn't, so I grabbed my knife. She got really scared, which was good, because I didn't like what she was doing and she needed to know that. I had my knife at her throat and she nodded, so I knew she understood. And so we came to an agreement.

She called out Grumpy again, and we went further up the railroad. Grumpy looked disgusted at me, but he said; 'It looks better.'

I took that as a sign of wanting to earn my trust, and Zoro agreed with me, but I wouldn't give in so easily, so I ignored him. I hadn't even seen the awesome stitches myself, and I couldn't wait till we came across a mirror. I probably look like an awesome pirate, just like Zoro, but a little different.

 _Glenn_

The chaos hasn't changed. I immediately see that once we're on the courtyard. With one hand, I hold Calvin behind me, in the other I hold a gun. I gave him my machete, which I could grab if we got surrounded or we would be out of ammo.

I can feel the little boy tremble behind me, and I want to say some comforting words, but I can't find any. I actually need some comforting myself.

We've only taken one step onto the courtyard, and we're already surrounded. I hear Calvin sob softly, holding the machete in front of him. The first walker jumps on to him, and I'm just in time to catch him before he can sink its teeth in the little boy's flesh.

"I'm gonna have to let go of you for a second, OK?" I say to him. His eyes widen with fear under his large helmet. "Just for a second. Stay close."

I count to three in my head, but don't make it past two. We have to get out here right now. I start running, shoulder bumping any walker in my way. We have to make it. No counting down, no time.


	6. Chapter 5

**Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas chapter 5 is here! Are you ready for some feels?**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Tara_

She's dead. She's dead. He's dead. Everyone is dead. I'm gonna die too.

Yeah, that's how it is. I fucked up, for real this time. I'm surrounded, all that keeps me from getting eaten are a thin fence and some wooden pallets. They haven't really noticed me yet, but who knows how long it will take for them to bust through and eat me alive? I mean, I'm the only living person that's still in this dump, I'm their only and first pick.

Why do I still sit here? Why don't I just step out and let them come get me? Why do I wait for it to happen? I'm gonna stand up.

And I don't. I'm frozen, like a turkey before Thanksgiving. I stare at the ground, unable to move. I don't know how long I've been sitting here. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks…who cares? Everything and everyone is dead.

I hear swift footsteps from somewhere far away. They don't sound like a walker's, but I don't really care what it is. If it's from Brian's group or the other it doesn't matter. The person would kill me right away.

So I sit still. From the corner of my eye I see the person nearing me. There's a smaller one with him, a kid. They stand still, looking at me. The little one says something to the bigger one, and pulls at his, as if he's trying to warn him. The bigger one nods, and they keep walking.

For a second, I wish I could open my mouth. That I could scream, ask them to come back and save me. But I'm stuck. In this place and in my own body. There's nothing I can do.

The footsteps suddenly return. The little one still protests, but the bigger one ignores him. He even pulls open the gate, pushing little one inside and then follows himself. He keeps Little One behind him, as a meaning of protecting him. The first thing he does after closing the gate is grabbing the gun I'd been holding on to the whole time. The moment he touches my hand, I feel clarity in mind. It's a strange feeling, as if someone flushed the toilet after a long time. I blink for a second.

I hear a clicking sound, and Bigger One dismantles my gun. He checks the ammo.

"It's full," he says. "Did you even fire a shot?"

I don't feel like talking yet, so I shake my head as a response. This person wasn't with Brian. He was one of the prison people.

I can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Alright, let's go" I hear him say. I suddenly feel very cold, and it almost feels like someone is squeezing my throat. I keep a straight face, but on the inside my organs are dancing furiously. What is he thinking?

When I don't respond he tries again. "Let's GO!"

A few walkers turn their heads towards us, but there's no further interference from their side. When I still don't respond, the guy relieves himself from his backpack and kneels down next to me.

"You're just gonna stay here, huh?" he softly says. "You're just gonna die?"

The squeezing around my throat disappears, as if my body allows me to speak again. And I know just what to say.

"I was part of this." A silence follows. Big One glances over his shoulder to Little One, who stands in the corner of the cage, as if they're silently communicating.

"We know" he then says calmly. I allow myself to turn my head to look at him.

The guy is around my age, from Asian descend. He wears military armour, including a helmet, which he temporarily removed and now lays on the ground next to him. The little boy in the corner also wears armour, but his seems way too big for his skinny body.

"What are you doing?" I ask the guy. Why would he want me to come with them if I was the one that destroyed their home? Is he insane.

"I need your help" he says, while standing up. He grabs his backpack, and searches through it for a particular item. Meanwhile, I see the little boy staring at me with the hate I expected to come from the guy too.

The guy pulls out a bottle of what seems to be liquor and a cloth. He pushes the tip of the cloth in the opening of the bottle, shakes it a few times so the alcohol flows through the napkin. I realize he's making a distraction for the walkers.

He hands me my gun and a knife, and looks me in the eye. "We've run out of bullets. Take this."

I can only stare at him in awe. How can he be so cool in this place and time?

"Take this!" he says louder when I don't move. Without saying a word I take the weapons. The guy then lights up the napkin and throws it towards an abandoned car, which sets fire as well as soon as the alcohol spreads over the dashboard. The walkers soon head over towards the light, away from our cage.

The guy grabs his backpack and swings it over his shoulder. He turns towards me. "OK, stay close to me, and keep an eye on Vinnie over here." He gestures towards the little boy, who's helmet keeps slagging over his eyes. "I can cover you and you cover me, but I can't do it alone. Keep him in the middle at all times, got it?"

I nod, and quickly crawl up. The guy throws his helmet on his hat, and grabs a machete. "You ready?"

I can only nod, and as soon as he says 'Let's go!', I start running. My head empties again, but in a good sense.

We run over the courtyard, through the gates towards the fields. I can't hear the gunshots when I fire, I don't see the blood splattering of skulls as soon as the bullet passes through. All I see is the pair of hateful eyes of the little boy piercing through my mind.

 _Beth_

Daryl seemed even more grumpy than before, after what happened on the railroad. He can't stand the thought of the sweet Vicky taking care of me, better than he ever could. The Vicky I used to call my friend seems to be around more often now, and it's the personality we need right now.

She seems to have mood swings now and then, depending on which subject is being spoken about, for example her clothing. I hadn't told Daryl about the knife she held at my throat when I asked her to undress, and I think it's better if he doesn't know.

He did try to make conversation with her. He said the wounds looked a lot better after treatment, but Vicky just nodded. It reminded me of the beginning, when we first met Vicky in the prison. She already seemed to wage a war against Daryl after her first encounter with him, and it seemed to be a never ending discussion. In the end they were our power team when it came down to exterminating walkers or supply runs. Maybe, in another life they would've gotten along.

After taking care of most of Vicky's wounds, we decided to follow the railroad for a while, to see where I would bring us. We eventually got onto an asphalted road, which didn't seem like the best option, since there aren't many places to hide. We followed it for the time being, just till it gets dark then we'll find some place to sleep.

The road is empty, there's literally nothing lying around. Not even leafs. As if someone cleared it out for some reason. Maybe it's for the better, since one of us has no shoes.

"Maybe we should find you some footwear" I say to Vicky, staring at her muddy feet. She looks down, and shrugs.

"They could also use some nail polish, don't you think?"

I laugh. "If you say so."

I can almost see Daryl roll his eyes. He's been walking in front of us the whole time, his crossbow hanging over one shoulder. He refuses to be near Vicky altogether.

"Zoro thinks shoes aren't really necessary" Vicky continues, looking at the stuffed animal in her arms. "He says it's good for the flow of your bloodstream to walk barefooted every once in a while."

I frown. "Zoro sure is smart for a…dog."

Vicky nods. "He's the smartest in the world. I wouldn't be anywhere without him by my side."

I see Daryl shake his head, and I just hope Vicky doesn't notice.

"Say, Jenny" Vicky says. Ever since the railroad she's been calling me that for some reason. "Can you tell me more about the people you're looking for?"

I clear my throat, surprised by the sudden change of subject. "Uh, sure…there's quite a lot of them, but there is this one group we've been traveling around with for a long time now. And they're almost like a family-"

"Wow, really?" Vicky already interrupts. "That's interesting. I had a family once, but they're all dead. My father died in my arms, to be exact. Where's your father?"

I stop walking. I'm not prepared for this question. I take a deep breath, wondering what to say. I don't want to sound rude, and I don't want to cry.

"Ah, I see" Vicky says after a while, as she keeps walking. "He's dead as well. Your mom too? Do you have any siblings?"

"Yes" I quickly say, pushing the images of my father's beheading in the back of my mind. "Yes, a sister. Her name's Maggie, and she's married to a guy named Glenn. They're both good fighters."

"They're _married?!_ That's adorable!" Vicky screams, turning around. Her face has the look of pure happiness on it. She throws her arms in the air. "Ooohh, I wanna meet them! They sound so lovely!"

"Keep it down, will you?" Daryl grumbles over his shoulder. Vicky sticks out her tongue towards him, and he holds up his middle finger. Vicky narrows her eyes and takes a few steps towards him.

"Daryl has a brother" I quickly say. It's the first thing that comes to mind. Vicky's attention is back at me, and so is Daryl's. He's stopped walking, but doesn't turn around. And Vicky seems to notice.

"Ah, he's dead too?" The way she says it makes it look like she's putting salt in the wound. I see Daryl fold his hands into fists. What have I done?

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Daryl turns around, confused. So am I.

Never had either of us heard something sounding so honest come from the redhead in front of us.

Vicky keeps walking, not aware of the change of atmosphere. "I mean, his death is probably the reason you're messed up in the head."

As she passes Daryl, she gives him a soft pat on the shoulder. It looks awkward, but is meant as supportive. It's a heart-warming sight.

The irony of what she just said really hits home. If there's anyone messed up in the head, it's her. And she knows the cause of it.

She also knows there's nothing she can do to help it.

For some reason, I feel tears filling my eyes. The cruelty of her situation is just too much for me to handle.

Daryl looks at me, as if I know how to explain the situation, but I'm just as confused as he is.

Finally, Vicky turns around and breaks the silence.

"Jeez, c'mon, you emotional wrecks. We're not gonna find anyone if you just keep standing there crying your balls through your eyes. Get going already."

Without saying a word, Daryl turns his back on me and starts walking. Vicky gives him a somewhat satisfied nod, as if she's in control. I follow soon after, and force myself to smile through my tears. Maybe having a light-hearted kind of person around is what we need right now.


	7. Chapter 6

**Heya!**

 **And so the story continues. For the ones wondering; this sequel will have a length of 25 chapters, so enjoy while it lasts!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

Hello my sweet dearest,

The railroad wasn't that much fun after all. We ended up hitting the road till it got dark, and that's when things get interesting. We needed a place to hide. Well, they seemed to find it necessary. If it was up to me we'd just be walking all night long, getting jump scared and stuff. But sadly they didn't agree with my idea, so we ended up staying at some kind of cave alongside the road.

Well, it's more like a bump in a big rock, not really a cave. Grumpy went crafting and came back with some kind of party slings and hung that around the camp. Jenny made a fire and Grumpy also brought some squirrels to eat. They said they wanted to sleep inside the 'cave', but I'd prefer to stay on the outside.

For some reason, Grumpy really is trying to be nice to me. I have no idea why, but I think it's a way of earning my trust, so he can stab me in the back when I let down my guard. As if I'm letting that happen. Zoro thinks so too. He actually thinks I should kill them, since they're kind of dangerous.

I'm not sure if I agree with him, I wouldn't really mind getting rid of them, but I think they're kind of fun. And I really want to meet their people.

Jenny told me about her sister, Maggie, who's married to some guy called Glenn. I mean, isn't that super cute? You always hear the kinds of stories where there is a widow or a widower that lost his wife/husband in the apocalypse and that's their drive to keep living or to seek vengeance and blah, blah, blah….but you never hear stories about a badass couple that managed to stay alive until now!

I imagine like a Laura Croft-kind of lady with some Rambo-dude next to her. I bet they're totally like that and I can't wait to see!

And for that, I have to at least keep Jenny alive. Grumpy I can kill off, but that might not earn me much trust on Jenny's side, and I kind of need her. So I'll play it cool for now, but if Grumpy tries anything, he's dead.

Then I'll cut off his head and keep it as a trophy. Shoot him with his own arrows. Bash his head in with the crossbow. Drown him in his own blood. Use him as bait for creepers. Watch him get eaten. Pierce his chest with a sword. Put his body on a stake. Watch him bleed to death. Find a tank and crush him. Make soup of the remains. Cut off his limbs one by one. Force him to eat it. Pop out his eyes. Make a necklace out of his organs. Perform a surgery on him while he's still alive. Show him his own heart while I crush it in my fingers. Bury him alive leaving only his head above the ground. Make him listen to pop music till his hears bleed. Find out what allergies he has. Force him to drink gasoline and then set him on fire. Put a caterpillar in his ear and watch him go crazy. Use his blood as ink for my diary. Let a thousand beetles crawl over his body. Put a beehive on his head. Read him all the books of Twilight and make him watch all the movies. Make him read 'My Immortal'. Let him explain to me the meaning of 'Who's afraid of Red, Yellow and Blue?'. Make him write a story with his tongue as a pencil and pee as ink. Shave his head and put the hairs in his mouth. Blindfold him and push him down a ravine. Put a knife under his toenail and bump it into a tree. Pull out all his teeth and use it as a xylophone. Break all his bones one by one, ending with the skull. Cut off his nose and then say 'Got your nose!'. Put a dog poo bag over his head. Sew his mouth and tickle him till he rips it open from laughing. PieRce hiS BodY Multiple tiMES till HE Begs me to STOP. FORCE him to swallow HIS OWN arrows. Put A HoT potato IN HIS MOUTH and force him to SPEAK FRENCH. MAKE HIM DOWnload Windows 10 without throwing THE COMPUTER out the window. Pour WASABI IN HIS eyes. GLUE HIS nippLES TO HIS FOREHEAD. REPLACE HIS HANDS WITH KNIFES AND THEN MAKE HIM SCRATCH HIS OWN FACE. MAKE HIM SUFFER. KILL HIM. GLUE HIS HAND TO HIS FACE AND MAKE HIM RIP IT OFF. MAKE HIM WALK THROUGH A SWAMP ON HIGH HEELS WITH HIS HANDS TIED TO HIS BACK. KILL HIM. KILL HIM. MAKE HIM SUFFER. SUFFER. SUFFER. DEFORM HIS FACE TILL HE LOOKS LIKE A CHICKEN. TURN HIS ARMS INTO WINGS. STAB HIS BUTT. PUSH A BABY UP HIS ASS AND MAKE HIM GO INTO LABOUR. MAKE HIM SUFFER. REAL BAD. MAKE HIM EAT ORGANS. WHEN HE THROWS IT UP HE HAS TO EAT IT AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. TILL HE VOMITS OUT HIS STOMACH. HE HAS TO CUT IT OPEN AND EAT THE INSIDES AND THEN THE STOMACH AS WELL. OR HE CAN USE IT AS A HAT. MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER MAKE HIM SUFFER KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM.

 _Daryl_

I look over my shoulder. Vicky still sits there on her own, writing furiously in her diary as if her life depends on it. Beth is resting, I promised to take first watch. I'll probably won't sleep tonight, not with _her_ around. She may be the sweet innocent girl Beth sees when she looks at her, and she may be not. I don't think sympathy is something Vicky knows.

Keeping an eye on her, I make sure she doesn't suddenly turn around. I reach for my back pocket and lock my hand around a small notebook.

I don't know why I kept it. I don't know why I brought it with me after the prison fell. I don't understand why I went out of my way to retrieve it in the first place.

Since she left the prison I hadn't opened it. Not that there would be any new secrets written in there.

Staring at the dusty cover of the thing in my lap, I wonder if this might help her. Maybe, if she reads it, it will trigger her memory or something. Maybe it will bring her back.

There is still some of her left inside of that demon sitting a few feet away from me. I know it. I saw it just a few hours ago. It's a needle in a haystack that sometimes pops up without being called for. The haystack is a mess, a dangerous mess that keeps you awake at night, and it should. An unpredictable mess that can be shot when necessary. I don't take any chances. If we can't find the needle, it's over.

"Oopsy daisy!" I hear her voice say, and a second later the ropes I had hung around our camp start to rumble. Groaning and slipping feet through the leafs. The sound of walkers.

I quickly throw the book inside the cave and grab my crossbow. Vicky jumps from her place, her hand inside her robes. A knife appears in her hand and she runs head first into the group.

I lunge back and shake Beth awake. "We got trouble."

There's about a dozen of them, quite the number.

"They are food and we are hunters!" Vicky sings, while jumping around. She pins down two undead at once, and retrieves her knife with scaring ease. She fights of three at once.

I shoot a couple that get to close to the cave, as I see Beth grab her knife and stand next to me.

"Fooooooood!" Vicky screams.

"Shut up! You're only making it worse!" I shout at her. She turns her head towards me and sticks out her tongue. While doing that, a walker gets hold of one of the blankets wrapped around her. He pulls at it.

"Pervert!" Vicky shouts, planting her knife in the middle of its forehead. But the robes have already fallen off, revealing her body, which is nothing more than skin pulled over bones. And also several bite marks.

"What the…." I manage to say, before shooting another walker that gets too close. Vicky keeps dancing around, in her underwear this time. I hear Beth gasp next to me.

When our camp is filled with corpses, I make my way over to the girl that thinks she's doing a solo dance routine. I aim my crossbow at her head.

"How long have you been bit?!" I ask. Vicky stops, and slowly turns around. Her face is blank, no emotion to be seen.

"What do you mean, bit?"

"You've been bit several times!" Beth says, pointing at the half circles covering her arms and most of her upper body. There are some that have already skin tissue over them, as if it's been a long time since it happened. Others are only red crusted, it happened more recent. It's almost as if these aren't walker bites.

Vicky shrugs. "So? Nothing happened. I'm not sick or anything."

"Stop lying" I say, stepping closer the crossbow is almost touching her forehead. My finger is on the trigger.

"I'm not lying" Vicky sighs, grabbing her blankets from the ground. While wrapping them around her again she hums a song I don't know and I'm reminded of how insane she is again. "Can you get that thing out of my face? It's annoying."

"Not until you tell me the truth" I say, and she rolls her eyes. "Were you bit by a walker?"

"Yes" she says without hesitation. I narrow my eyes, but don't lower my weapon. She sighs annoyed. "You're gonna make me kill you if you don't put away that thing right now."

I don't respond. I see Beth gesturing something to me from the corner of my eye, but I don't dare to move away from the psycho in front of me. Vicky's eyes glimmer dangerously.

"I'm serious" she says, grinding her teeth. "Do you wanna die this bad?"

I see her tighten the grip around her knife, and I'm starting to think she's actually gonna do it.

"Daryl, just stop it" Beth whispers with a trembling voice. She should say that to _her._

"Listen to Jenny, Grumpy" Vicky says, her voice sounding lower than usual. Then she ducks, quicker than I can pull the trigger. The arrow hits the tree behind her, and pierces through the wood. When it stops shaking, I look down.

Vicky is holding her knife in front of where my navel is supposed to be. She looks up with an insane smile, her blue eyes widened. "Told yah."

She jumps up, pushes down the crossbow, and aims for the heart. I can evade a fatal wound my stepping a to the left. The knife pierces my shoulder.

"Fuck!" I hiss, kicking the girl off of me. She pulls the knife back and lands on her feet. She leans backwards and lets out a laughter.

Beth moves quickly, standing in front of me while I fall to my knees, pushing my hand on the wound.

"Get away from here" I hear Beth say. She's holding up a gun in the crazy girl's face. All Vicky can do is laugh.

"You too are just pathetic!" she says, almost sounding hatefully. "Grow up already!"

Beth takes a step forward. "I said leave!"

Vicky shrugs. "I was about to anyways. Thanks for the laughs." Before turning around, she eyes me. "Just so you know; I was planning to kill you. I still am, actually. So watch your back, 'kay?"

Then she leaves, but Beth doesn't turn away until the silhouette of the redhead has completely disappeared in the night.


	8. Chapter 7

**Heyho!**

 **For the once that celebrated it: hope you had a nice Halloween!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Vinnie_

When I can see the green flashing before my eyes, I finally dare to remove the helmet which has been blocking my sight for most of the way through the prison. I could barely see Glenn, but I made sure I followed his feet everywhere they go. If he steps aside, I do so too. If he stops, so do I.

Now with my helmet removed, I can see for myself. We've reached the road leading to the prison, but we're walking in the opposite direction. As always, there is rubbish everywhere, and corpses of walkers previously killed.

I see the girl we just saved, walking behind us. I know she was with Philip at the prison, with the tank. They killed Hershel.

We walk in silence for a while, and it seems like Glenn is in a hurry. Of course we have to get away from the prison as fast as possible, but we also have to catch up with everybody else.

It takes some effort to catch up to him. "Glenn?"

He doesn't look at me, as if he doesn't hear me. Or ignores me. But I really have to tell him.

"Glenn!" I say again, louder now. He glances at me for a second, but then keeps walking.

"What is it, Calvin?"

I look over my shoulder, and see the girl is looking at us. She has a knife. "That girl…she was with _them._ "

"I know" Glenn says quickly. "Nothing we can do about it now."

"But they-"

"Yes, they destroyed the prison" Glenn says, and he stops walking. "But we need people. It can't just be the two of us. I can't protect you alone."

"They killed Herhsel!" I scream. Glenn's eyes widen, and his jaw drops. He glances over his shoulder to the girl, and then back at me.

"H-Hershel? They…killed him?"

I feel tears filling my eyes as I nod. "Philip…the Governor, he had Michonne's sword and he…"

"No way…." Glenn gasps. The girl that's been following us stops now too, and I can see she knows what we're talking about. I can she still has the knife.

"We should do something about her" I whisper, holding my own knife in both my hands. Glenn stares at the ground, as if he doesn't hear me again. He seems even more pale than before.

"We don't have to kill her" I continue. "Just knock her out and leave her behind."

Glenn turns his head towards me. "What?"

Looking over Glenn's shoulder, I see the girl freeze. "We have to get rid of her."

Glenn frowns, as if he's seen something disgusting. "N-no! We have to hear what she has to say first."

"I'm sorry!" the girl suddenly says. She falls on her knees on the ground, her head bowed. Slowly, she lifts up her arm in the air, as a gesture she's surrendering, but I don't buy it. "I had no idea who he was! He just…showed up one day, saying his name was Brian. We…my sister and I, we thought we would be save with him. He told us you were bad people, we didn't know what you guys were like!" She bows even deeper, her head almost touching the ground in a praying position. "Then he suddenly had a tank, and he chopped off the man's head, and my sister….oh god, my sister!"

Glenn turns around to look at her, and I stand next to him. I even elbow him, as encouragement.

She was with the people that killed Hershel and so many other people. They destroyed our home. She deserves to be punished.

"Stand up."

I widen my eyes at Glenn. I pull at his arm, but he doesn't respond. The girl seems just as shocked as I am.

"What's your name?" Glenn continues as if nothing happened. The girl sits up on her knees.

"T-Tara," she stumbles. Trembling on her feet, she stands up. She leaves her knife on the ground, and even attempts to kick it in our direction, as if to show she can be trusted. But I don't.

"I'm Glenn, and this is Calvin." Glenn swiftly points in my direction. What is he doing?

"I understand if you hate me" Tara says, again lifting her arms in the air. "I understand if you want to leave me behind. I'll just be on my way."

"Not happening" Glenn says, and I cringe my teeth. "You'll die out there."

Tara slowly drops her arms, her face confused. "What are you saying? I was with the people who killed your friend."

"Hershel was a good man" Glenn says, as if he didn't hear what was being said. "He taught me much, and above that: he entrusted me with the task of ensuring his daughter's safety. I have to find Maggie, and I can't do it alone. Calvin is looking for his brother, and as long as he hasn't found him, I'm responsible. We all need people to survive. That's why you're coming with us."

Tara's eyes widen, just like mine. I can't believe what Glenn is saying. It's true, I can't survive on my own, but I'm very good at not getting in the way of others. I can't believe this.

My thoughts are being interrupted by a couple of walkers appearing on one side of the road. Glenn immediately drops his backpack and rushes over with a machete held in his hands. I quickly duck to grab the knife Tara had kicked in our direction and take a stance, ready to run away when things go bad.

Two walkers drop dead before Glenn collapses to the ground, grabbing his chest. Breathing suddenly seems impossible for him.

I freeze, not knowing what to do. A walker reaches out to Glenn, but he doesn't have to strength to even raise his arm.

I step back. The walker can sink it's teeth in Glenn's shoulder any time now.

Suddenly, Tara appears in front of me. She pushes me back, and with the other hand she aims a gun at the walkers. The one closest to Glenn drops to the ground, but there are more.

From the corner of my eye, I see a silhouette coming closer to us. When I turn my head, I see a truck heading over to where we are.

Glenn is unconscious, and Tara tries her best to hold off the walkers. The truck keeps coming closer.

 _Beth_

Daryl groans as he tries to get up. I carefully push him back. "Take it easy for a while longer, OK?"

"How long's a while?" he says between his teeth. He doesn't say it out loud, but he's in a lot of pain.

"We'll get back out there tomorrow morning, alright?"

He snorts. "It's not right to stay in one place for too long. We'll be attracting the wrong attention sooner or later."

I roll my eyes. "Just one day won't hurt anyone. We will if we'd leave right now."

Daryl breathes out through his nose, as if he's trying to keep himself from screaming out loud. I tried my best to take care of the wound with the supplements I had to my disposal, but just the bottle of alcohol I found in a shed wasn't enough to keep it from being infected. The knife Vicky used must've been really dirty.

"That bitch…" Daryl mumbles, closing his eyes. "When I get my hands on her…"

I keep my mouth shut. I want to tell him that going after Vicky isn't our priority right now, but on the other hand I'm sure he himself knows that as well.

"Thanks to her we lost some precious time" I say instead. "It will be even harder to catch up to the others now."

Daryl nods. "So much for our progress. It's been for naught."

I shake my head. "No, I don't think so. I don't think the things we found up till now are for nothing. And as long as we keep our eyes open, even more than before, I'm sure we'll find them."

Daryl chuckles unamused. "We don't only have the undead at our asses, but also a psycho who's immune for them."

"But not immune to guns."

What follows is a silence. What I said is true. Vicky isn't immortal, even though her skills may have you believe so. And now that we've seen her in a way like never before, it's pretty obvious what we have to do.

"Don't hesitate" Daryl says after a while. "When you see her, just pull the trigger."

I nod. I'm done playing nice. She had lied to us this whole time, she was planning to kill us from the moment she lay eyes on us.

Even in the prison, she was always planning on how to get rid of us. She was always fighting the urge to just do it.

I've read it all. Daryl had given me the diary last night, after she'd left and I had given him first aid. I read through it. All of it, for as much as I could decipher the last half.

There was a point where she did care. She was willing to risk her life for us, to fight for us. But something happened that made her go down even deeper than she already was.

Was it after Lori and T-dog died? After Daryl betrayed her? After meeting her niece again, after such a long time? After we lost Merle? After talking to Will?

Something pushed her over the edge, making her go out there again on her own, where she started in the beginning. For real.

She'd lost all memories again. She had to get to know us again.

"Maybe this was supposed to happen" I say out loud. Daryl lifts his head.

"What?"

I turn my head to look at him. "Back at the prison, when we first met her, she chose not to kill us. Perhaps she is regretting that now. If we hadn't come to the prison, she might not have turned out like this."

Daryl frowns. "What are you talking about? I get that we're right back at where we started and all, but you're talking dimensions and shit."

I shrug. "We live in one where she didn't kill us the first time, and now she does after…well, a reset."

Daryl shakes his head, as if this is too much for him to understand. "You're just talking nonsense. Quit it, will you? Otherwise my shoulder isn't the only thing that needs meds anymore." He rubs over his eyes with the palm of his hand, and sighs. "There is one thing I do know, though; she's only after us. She only knows who we are, but about no one else."

I want to nod, but then realize something. Something cold works its way up my spine a I come to the realization of what I've done. Daryl notices my unease.

"What? What is it?"

I slap my hands over my eyes. "Oh no…"

Daryl sits up, despite the warnings I gave him earlier about the pain it causes him. "Spit it out already! What did you do?"

Removing my hands from my face, I look Daryl in the eyes. "I told her about Maggie, and Glenn. She said she wanted to meet them in person."

Daryl lifts an eyebrow, and sits back, biting his lip because of the pain. "Oh man."

"She's going to hunt them down" I whisper, my heart bumping in my throat. "She's gonna go after them instead of us."

"You don't know that" Daryl says, and it seems as if he believes his own words just as much as I do. "She could be lurking just outside this cave for all we know."

I made a huge mistake. Maggie is in danger because of me. "We have to do something."

Daryl hesitates, for some unexplainable reason. So I continue. "We have to after her, before she finds them."

"No" Daryl shakes his head. "We have to find Maggie and Glenn first, so we can warn them. If we're together, we might find a way to get rid of her."

"But what if she finds them before we do?"

Daryl sighs, and stares into the woods, where there's only movement of the wind. "Then we'll find them by finding her. Hunt her down, kill her on the spot."


	9. Chapter 8

**Hihey**

 **So, last few chapters have been kind of intense...? So maybe I should slow it down a bit :P**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy ;)**

Hello lovely piece of shit writing of mine!

I did it! Or, well, I made an attempt to kill them. But things didn't really work out that well. Sadly enough I think they'll survive. Just great. But maybe I'll run into them some other time, which will be very interesting. I look forward to that.

Right now there isn't much going on in this sweet life of mine. Zoro said we should head for the town nearby, so that's what I did. There were a bunch of creepers around, but also some people.(Honestly, I sometimes don't know the difference between them since both of them eat humans)

There are three people in the town, though. A boy, a chick and a guy. And the chick has a sword! Like, a real badass sword! And she swings it around like a boss!

Zoro said we might have to watch them for a while before we approach. See what kind of people they are. I told him I already like them, but Zoro said I also liked the last two people we came across and that didn't work out so well. Maybe he's right.

So now I'm stuck sitting on a roof at the other end of the house they're staying. The chica and the boy just left, and the guy is probably still inside. He didn't look so great, as if he had a real bad fight the other day. I already like him.

Oh, damn, somethings happening. A group of men just entered the town, and they look like some kind of gang. I don't think the guy knows them.

They remind me of Grumpy. I hate them.

Zoro says its better if we don't interfere, because they have guns and we don't. I told him the other guy is still inside and that he might need some help, but Zoro says he'll be fine on his own. I sure hope so.

Ugh, some of them went inside the house. There's still one outside, and he's sitting on the porch like he owns the place. Sucker.

Oh, great. Now he's eating their food. I'm so gonna kill him when Zoro gives me permission to do so.

Oh damn! There's a creeper coming out of the house. HAHAHAHAHA IT'S ONE OF HIS FRIENDS! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET YOU TWAT! SUCK IT!

Oh, and there's my fave. He's sneaking out the back. If one of the other guys notices him, he'll be in trouble.

Zoro says it's OK for me to meet him now.

 _Rick_

I hold my gun to my chest and my back against the side of the wall. I don't think the man sitting on the porch has noticed me yet, but it won't be long.

Looking around I search for Carl and Michonne. They should be heading back by now, which isn't good. I have to get them out of here as soon as possible.

The man clearly doesn't have a clue of my presence, and I think of a way to escape without changing that.

The man whistles carelessly, and I grind my teeth. These people are obviously out to kill. There's no way they'll just let us go, not after what I left behind for them inside the house.

I dare to take a peek around the corner, keeping an eye on the man above me. Through a couple of trees I see figures moving.

"Shit" is my first thought. Michonne and Carl are heading this way. They have no idea what's going on.

I have to hurry. Tightening my grip around the machine gun I'm holding, I count to three. At the last number, I will jump up and shoot the guy directly. He won't feel much pain and won't have the chance to resist. It's gotta be quick and clean, although the other men will probably hear the gunshot. But by the time they figured out where it came from I'll be long gone.

I close my eyes and breath through my nose. Above me on the porch I hear the man eating canned fruit, spitting out the seeds on the ground next to me. I already don't like his attitude. So careless, it makes me want to barf.

I've come to three. I grab hold of the wall and want to lunge myself upwards, when I hear a gunshot. I immediately freeze, still staying low.

The man moves away from the porch, heading inside the house. There are screams and growls, and it sounds like the men I just killed off have reanimated.

As soon as the man has disappeared, I start running towards Carl and Michonne. When they see me coming, Michonne widens her eyes. Almost instinctively she grabs Carl by his shoulder and drags him with her while we run.

"What happened?" she asks, another hand on her sword. I shake my head.

"People. Group of men. Bad ones."

She glances over her shoulder to the house we stayed in for the last few days, and frowns. "We better get out of here fast, they seem like the vengeful kind to me."

I follow her gaze, and see the man I was hiding from standing on the porch, looking straight at me. I narrow my eyes, and turn away. "Yeah, we better keep moving."

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" Suddenly, a voice sounds behind us. I immediately grab the gun, before turning around, and then frown to myself. It almost seems natural to take it into my hands. Not because I use it every day, it seems as if it has a connection to the voice. It's instinct which tells me I have to put my finger on the trigger, just in case.

Almost afraid of what I'll see I turn around for a bit. There is a girl running a few feet behind us, or at least it looks like a girl. I would've easily mistaken her for a walker.

She's wrapped up in what looks two different blankets, as a sorry attempt to making a dress. She's barefooted, and she doesn't seem to have any other belongings, besides the knife she's holding in her hand. Her limbs give her the impression that she's very underweight, and her small face and popping eyes give her the image of skin being stretched over bones. It's her red hair that gives her away.

It looks a lot more dull now, as if she hasn't showered since she left the prison, which might actually be the case considering how she took care of herself back then. While running it dances around her face like an old curtain.

When Michonne lays eyes on Vicky, she lets go of Carl and takes her katana in both her hands. She stops Vicky by holding the blade in front of her face.

"Keep going" she tells Carl. "I'll handle this."

I slow my pace, but gesture Carl should keep going. Anxiously I look into the direction of the house, but the men don't seem to be on the move yet.

Vicky frowns, holding up her hands in the air. When her eyes lock at the katana, her expression changes into the well-known extravagant and over the top-happy one. "Oh my, lady, I gotta say; that is one heck of a sword you got there! May I hold it please?"

"Cut the act" Michonne says firmly. "What are you doing here?"

Vicky folds her arms and rolls with her eyes. "I followed you guys, of course."

Michonne glances over to me as I approach the redhead. "How did you find us?"

She shrugs. "Just by chance. I escaped my last group, which was basically made out of two psycho's, and then I saw you wandering around the town and being awesome and stuff….and your boy! Damn, he got some skill! Killing three creepers in one go? Talent!"

I frown, and lock eyes with Michonne for a sec. We have to make haste. "Where have you been all this time?"

Vicky attempts to elegantly clean her 'dress', but fails miserably. "Just out, exploring the world? Why? What is it to you?"

I look at the house again. From behind some bushes I can see shadows moving.

"Well" Michonne starts answering for me, "you were gone so suddenly. And after that last letter you left behind…we thought you died."

Vicky frowns. "What are you talking about? I don't know you people. And trust me; if I like people I remember them. And I really, really like you people. Sword lady and ninja man, the perfect scenario for a good comic series! And you're sidekick will be Creeper Slayer. I'm already loving it!"

"You don't remember us?" I ask, keeping an eye on the shadows approaching. Vicky shakes her head.

"Nope. But from now on you're my favourite!"

I grab her by the arm and start running again. We don't have time for this nonsense.

Carl is waiting for us behind the last house of this neighbourhood. When he sees us coming with Vicky, who dances around like she's having a party, he hesitates.

"Just keep moving" I grumble to him, as we head into the forest.

 _Daniel_

Everything hurts. But whatever I'm laying on, it's really soft and nice. My sight's blurry, and all I see are lights flashing before my eyes. And there are voices. Male voices.

When I try to peek through my eyelashes, it looks like they're wearing uniforms. Policemen?

Then I fall back into a slumber.


	10. Chapter 9

**Hello,**

 **it's been a week since the terrorist attacks in Paris, Beirut and Baghdad, but I still want to wish all the people who've los loved ones the strength and love they need to recover. I truly have no words for this tragedy.**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **I hope you can somehow enjoy this chapter ;)** _Glenn_

The first thing I hear when regain consciousness is the sound of an engine. And a loud rumbling right underneath me, as if I'm in a huge massage chair. But there are no massage chairs anymore. Nor were there engines around when I collapsed.

When I come to, I manage to open my eyes. The sight's blurry at first, and I need to blink to save myself from the bright sunlight. Trees are flashing by above me, and it seems like we're actually moving.

We?

Vinnie, Tara. Where are they?

I manage to sit up, and immediately feel a hand on my shoulder. When I turn my head I see the girl we saved sitting next to me.

"Hey, don't move" she says over the rumbling sound of the engine. She grabs a bottle. "Here's some water."

"Where are we?" I ask with a dry throat, and hear my own voice raise a few octaves. At my other side, I see Calvin sitting, his arms wrapped around his legs, which he pulled up to his chest.

"I dunno" Tara answers. That answer sends shivers down my spine, and I quickly sit up. "You were fighting off biters and passed out right after we left the prison. I didn't know, the back of a truck seemed safer than the side of the road. Especially with him around." With the last few words she points at Calvin, who looks up. He finally seems to notice I'm awake.

I try to climb onto my feet, but I'm too dizzy and the moving truck doesn't make it any easier for me. Still trembling, I manage to get to my knees.

Too many things are going through my mind. Right after we left the prison…how long ago is that? And what road are we at right now? Who is driving in the first place? Why looks Calvin so upset? Why can't I shake off the feeling I'm missing something?

"The bus! Did we pass the bus?" I ask Tara. She looks at me with big brown eyes. "On the road, did we pass a bus?"

"Yeah" she replies hesitantly. I feel cold.

"What did you see?" I almost don't want to ask it, but I have to know. Tara opens and closes her mouth, really testing my patience. This is torture. "What did you see?!"

"They were all dead" I hear a tiny voice say. I look over my shoulder to the little boy, who eyes me. His face is blanc, no emotions to be read. Whatever he saw in that bus, it definitely left a scar.

I turn back to Tara, hoping she can tell me it wasn't that bad.

Maggie was on that bus.

"It's true" Tara says, and I feel she just threw a rock in my stomach. I swallow for some reason.

"How long since we passed it?" I ask, pushing away the thought of Maggie's fate. Tara keeps looking at me with brown innocent eyes, but I don't have time for pity.

"Three hours."

Another stone. I step back, still unstable on the moving truck. For a moment, I don't know what to do. We passed the one thing I was looking for and left it far behind without me knowing it or having seen it myself. I have the responsibility of both a little boy and an unstable girl who's trust still seems a little off, and the truck just keeps going.

My eye catches a glass window at the back of the driver's seat. Looking through it I can see three people sitting in the front. The driver, a girl with two ponytails and another person.

Folding my hands into fists, I weakly knock on the glass. "Hey! Stop the truck!"

It sounds louder in my head, but I know the driver heard me. As a response I get the finger, which makes me only more frustrated.

I slam at the glass again. Tara now too starts shouting, stomping the back. Vinnie crawls onto his feet, and pokes me in the arm. He hands me a rifle.

"You can use it to break the glass" he says, pointing at the small window. "There's not much chance of anyone being alive in that bus, but I don't want to go with these people either."

If I could I would've stared at the boy, but I don't have time. I mumble a soft thank you, and then slam the back of the rifle into the glass.

"Stop the truck!" I shout once more, no response. Another slam of the rifle, causing it to rip. Finally, the engine stops rolling and the truck slows down. I fall back on my knees, feeling exhausted. Tara quickly tends to me, but I wave her off.

Calvin grabs my backpack, which is twice the size of himself, but he doesn't complain. We kick open the trunk and jump back on the ground.

Feeling a little dizzy I can't see in front of me. But that doesn't matter. I just have to follow the road, in the hopes of finding my wife.

"Where the hell are you going?" a male voice sounds behind me. I don't bother to look who it is, since I don't recognize the voice. I don't care who it is. The widening of Calvin's eyes tells me enough. I take over the backpack from him, since he's dragging it over the ground like a tail that's too long.

"Where the hell is he going?" the male voice shouts again, this time seemingly to Tara. She doesn't answer either.

From the corner of my eye I see a big man walking towards me with big steps, till he manages to stop me in my tracks. With fierce blue eyes and a thick red moustache the man looks at me, but I don't feel any fear. I don't have time to be afraid.

"I don't know what your lady friend told you about the true nature of this mission we're on," he stars saying, and I hear he's definitely a southerner, "but it's time sensitive and we're way behind schedule."

I frown. What the hell is he talking about?

 _Michonne_

From behind a bush, I gesture to Carl to stay put. A walker's approaching, but doesn't seem to have noticed us yet. I hold up three fingers, as a sign I'll get it in three seconds. But I haven't gotten to the second finger, or Vicky jumps out, planting a knife in the forehead of the walker with a scarily ease.

"I got it!" she screams, retrieving her knife. "Did you see that? I'm frickin' boss!"

"Shut up!" I hiss, stepping out of the bush. Vicky dances around the corps, but keeps her mouth shut. Carl eyes me, shrugging his shoulders.

Rick appears from my right, his gun in his hand. He lifts an eyebrow towards the redhead. "I think that was the last of them."

"For now" I mumble, and he nods.

"For now. So we'll keep watch three hours each." He glances at his watch, which is still working. A miracle, if you ask me. I glare over my shoulder to Vicky who hums a clueless song. "We'll stay on the move by finding a new camping side every three hours. I'll take first watch."

I frown. "Are you sure? You're barely awake."

He grins humourlessly. "I've been through worse."

"Really?" the voice of Vicky sounds suddenly. Her head leans a little to the left, like a bird investigating a worm. "What happened?"

Rick narrows his eyes. "A lot. Let's get going."

Turning his back towards the girl he starts walking in no particular direction. He just wants to evade the question, literal and figural. I follow him, my sword resting on my shoulder, afraid that if I put it away something bad will happen. With Carl around I can't keep my eyes off either of them. And now that _she's_ here, I've got the feeling I won't have enough eyes.

"You coming, Vicky?" I ask the girl, who looks up from whatever she was doing with the walker's head. She nods enthusiastically and starts running towards Rick. I've tried to keep her walking in front of me at all times. If she decides to attack either me or Rick, we'll be able to restrain her. And by keeping Carl behind me she won't be able to lay a hand on him.

I still have to confront Rick about this whole situation, but ever since our previous safe house got invaded we've been on the run, trying to find a place in the woods. Of course, we're hoping to find some kind of shed, or something else to shelter us for the night. After we've found something, we have to do something about _her._

"Hey" Carl whispers, as he comes walking next to me.

"What is it?" I whisper, thinking something's wrong. He nods towards Vicky, who jumps over a couple roots above the ground.

"Do you think she's telling the truth? About losing her memory?"

I shrug. "I have no idea. She'd already lost it once, and retrieved them after a while, which didn't work out that well."

"That depends on how you look at it" the boy replies. "She didn't really do anything to me. All we did was talk."

I harden the grip on my sword. "When you came back your head was bleeding."

"I know, I know, but…." Carl hesitates. "I shot her, and she forgave me. I could've killed her. At the time, I wanted to. Even though she knew that, she still wanted to be friends."

I look at the red haired girl again, who's trying to make conversation with Rick. He doesn't seem too happy about it, but doesn't wave her off either. She's almost unrecognizable, with her mouth covered in stitches. It looks very well taken care of, and it almost begs the question who did it.

"I hope for her sake she is" I mumble after a while. From the corner of my eye I see Carl frown.

"That she's what?"

I turned my head to look the teen in the eyes. "Telling the truth. If not…I'll make her tell us."

"Ooooooh!" Vicky's voice suddenly sounds. I quickly put both hands on my katana and push Carl behind me. The red haired girl jumps up and around, but it doesn't sound happy at all. More like she's disagreeing on something.

I basically drag Carl with me as I approach Rick. He's standing on a railroad, his hands on his hips. He does that whenever he's thinking about a tough decision.

"What is it?" I ask, eyes on the girl, who's now in a very serious conversation with the stuffed animal she's been carrying around. Rick points at a sign next to the road.

"Terminus?" I say as I read the sign. 'Sanctuary for all, community for all. Those who arrive survive.'

"Zoro says it sounds fishy" Vicky concludes, holding the filthy thing in front of her. I take a step towards the sign. Under the text they've put a map with different ways to get to this 'Terminus'- place.

"I've never thought I'd say this, but I agree with the psycho" I say as I glance over my shoulder to Rick. Vicky screams a hurray. "But…I think it's worth a shot."

"Whaaaat?" the redhead cries. "Are you insane?"

I chuckle. "Compared to you, this entire world is perfectly fine."

"Michonne's right" Carl interrupts, as Vicky's eyebrows make a downwards turn. "Maybe the others have seen the sign as well. Look" he says as he points at the drawn lines on the map. "There are several other directions to take to find it. They've probably put up more signs like these."

Rick sighs, and then nods. "I also think it's worth a shot, but it's also a risk."

"Finally!" Vicky throws her hands in the air. "Someone who understands!"

Rick holds up his hand, as a gesture she needs to shut up. It occurs to me he's been really careful around her with everything he does and says. Rick who's afraid of someone. Truly a rare sight.

"We just have to be careful" he continues, and Vicky moans disappointed. "If we feel something's off, we leave immediately. If we can't find the others there, we'll just keep looking. This is the only lead we've gotten so far, and I'm not gonna let it slip. We're going to Terminus."

Vicky shakes her head, her red hair swinging around her face like a dead fox. "No….no…not good."


	11. Chapter 10

**Hello, hello,**

 **Friday...Survivor's Diary New Pages day. That's what it is for me. And also just Friday, because Friday is awesome.**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

Dearest reader/listener/whatever,

Something's not right. I'm now with these new people, who are frickin' boss, but something's not right. We were just walking normally, and all of the sudden we ran into this sign that said something about a community. And now these idiots want to go there.

Are they out of their minds?

Zoro said that a community who puts up signs in a time like this is a lying one..

I tried convincing Rick, since he is the absolute leader of this small team, but he said they're looking for more people and they might've gone to this Terminus-place. Then I called him an idiot.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore Rick. He makes quick decisions, moves fast, is very cautious yet not too careful, and he chooses his own life and that of his group above all others. And I appreciate that, because that's how you survive.

And I also like that he has these cheeky one-liners sometimes. Like we're living in a freaking movie or something.

Sword-lady is also awesome, although I think she hates me. She always has her sword in her hands when I'm around, and can't keep her hands off Carl. Not because they're in love or anything, but more like a protective way. As if I'd hurt a kid.

When I look at Carl I always think he's just dressed as a cowboy because why the hell not. Like he just ran away from a costume party and is now on his way to his own death in Terminus.

Yeah, things are going great. I don't know why I even stick around anymore. I don't want to go to Terminus because I think it's shit, but I don't care enough about these people to stop them from going there. I could also kill them myself, spare them the things which are awaiting in that shitty community, but that wouldn't be fair. They haven't done anything to me. Well, not yet. Sword-lady is kinda getting on my nerves, so it won't be long now.

I guess I'll just stay till they reach that place, and then go my own way. And don't get involved with that creepy community business.

Oh, I just remembered. Grumpy and Jenny are probably heading to Terminus too. Which means they'll be killed too.

Kinda disappointing, though. I was hoping to do it myself, maybe torture Grumpy a little more, but sadly I can't. Because I'm not going to Terminus.

I still have to find Maggie, and congratulate her on getting married. I made a drawing for her.

 _Tara_

The two men are standing in front of each other. I can see Abraham is really trying here, but Glenn's not convinced.

"I gotta go" he says, and I can hear his voice tremble. He attempts to pass the bigger man, but he blocks his way.

"You know, I got the feeling neither of you has been paying close attention to the hell on earth we've been living in" Abraham continues. He rants on about how not to die and how to stay together to survive, but I'm not really paying attention. Instead, I take this time to find the little boy.

Calvin is standing close to the woman wearing the shorts and a belly top, although he doesn't seem a bit interested in her. He's staring at the man with the mullet, who's standing close to the truck, looking around as if he's on holiday.

"I'll take my chances" Glenn says when Abraham's finished. He glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Calvin."

"I'm gonna have to insist" Abraham says, grabbing Glenn by his shirt. I take a step towards them, holding a knife close. "that you hold the hell up. Believe it or not, the fate of the entire human race might depend on it."

I frown, trying to get Glenn's attention, but he's too busy being confused himself. "What the hell are you talking about?" He then turns to me, with a face that expects answers. "Who is this guy?"

I shrug my shoulders, but Abraham himself answers. "I'm sergeant Abraham Ford. And these are my companions. Rosita Espinoza, and doctor Eugene Porter." When calling either of the names he nods to the person who belongs to it. I immediately have a different opinion about the mullet and the man.

"We're on a mission to get Eugene to Washington DC" Abraham continues. "Eugene's a scientist. And he knows exactly what caused this mess."

Still doesn't explain the mullet, but I'll take it.

I see Calvin is still staring at the man, and totally not aware of what's going on between the adults. I can't really blame him.

Glenn runs his fingers through his black hair, letting out a soft sigh. "Alright. So what happened?"

He took the words out of my mouth. If these people really know it, I would want to know.

Sadly, what follows is a short silence, till the mullet says; "It's classified."

And that's when I lose my hope again. Abraham says they've been talking to the people in Washington, but I still think the whole story's fishy.

"We could use your help" he ends it with. Glenn glances shortly at me, then back at Abraham, as if he's hesitating for a moment.

I don't feel like I'm in the position to advice Glenn in any way. After all I've done I wouldn't dare speak up. Wherever he decides to go, I will follow. So the decision's up to him.

"Sorry" he says, and walks past Abraham. "Tara, get Calvin."

I turn around to walk towards where I last saw the boy standing, but he's already walking past me. He's been avoiding me this whole time. I can't blame him.

I fasten my pace to catch up to Glenn. Seeing how he's doing I immediately feel guilty.

"I had to get us off the road" I start by saying. I don't want to apologize, because that's sounds stupid. "You were passed out, we were out of bullets…I know how to get back to that bus." I show him my arm, which is written full with sketchy notes. "I wrote down every turn. I will get you back, I can, OK?"

"It's where she would find me" he replies. "That's why I wanna go."

From the corner of my eye I see Abraham and Rosita following us. They are really persistent. When I hear Abraham's voice again I feel annoyed. Why can't he just accept we're not part of the team?

"You're wasting your time" he says. "Tara told us what went down." With that Glenn glances at me, but I can't look at him. "And there is zero chance you will ever find your wife again. Alive or dead."

It sounded so horrible. All he was saying. And so mean.

Yet it might all be true.

"Mainly because, sorry to tell yah, she's gone."

With that, Glenn stops in his tracks. I quickly halt too, just in time to see a slight satisfaction on Abraham's face. But he's not done yet.

"If you keep going the way you're now, that kid's gonna end up just like her. No need for him to die too."

I look at Calvin, who has a weird expression on his face. He has his eyes narrowed, and is staring at the big red haired man. Almost like he's analysing him.

"Come on" Abraham continues. "Get back in the truck. Do something with your life."

Glenn drops his backpack. That last sentence seems to have hit home real hard. He slowly turns around. Abraham continues to grumble the same things over again, but all I can sense is the anger burning inside of Glenn.

With his free hand, he slams his fist into Abraham's face. Calvin dashes back behind me. Glenn almost casually picks up his backpack again, which lays next to Abraham. "She's alive. And I'm gonna find her."

Faster than my eyes can see Abraham gets up and starts running towards Glenn. "You little bitch!"

He jumps on his back, causing Glenn to fall to the ground. I push Calvin back and hurry over to the two wrestling men. Both Rosita and I try to separate the two, but without much luck. There's a lot of swearing and shouting, but without much result.

"Get off him!" I shout desperately.

"You don't want this, Abraham!" Rosita shouts as well. I get pushed over by Abraham, who's now on top of Glenn, his hands around his throat. His face is starting to redden unnaturally.

"Stop it!" I scream, trying to pull him off. When I finally free Glenn, he immediately jumps onto Abraham, who has him pinned to the ground in just a couple seconds.

"Knock it off, please!"

Then there are gunshots. We immediately freeze and turn our heads. Without us noticing walkers have been gathering around the truck and on the road.

I immediately get on my feet, looking around anxiously. "Calvin?!"

The little boy suddenly comes running around the truck, with a gun in his arms which is as big as himself. He shooting around him, trying to fend off walkers. He hands another gun to the mullet, who's even worse at shooting than the boy, who can actually take out a walker. If I had time to be amazed I would've praised his accurate shots to the forehead and wondered who the hell taught this kid.

"Stop it, Eugene!" Abraham shouts, as he's running towards the truck. "Stop firing! We'll get our weapons!"

After a second of confusion, Glenn and I grab our own weapons and start clearing the herd. There's more of them coming from a field of high grass at one side and the forest at the other side. Not the best place to be surrounded. I feel goosebumps on my arms as I see the little kid standing next to me, firing bullet after bullet.

In a couple minutes the walkers are just corpses on the ground. As soon as the last one is out, Glenn walks over to Calvin with big, angry steps. The boy doesn't seem intimidated at all.

"Where did you get this gun?" Glenn asks, his voice sounding strict like a parent. The boy shrugs.

"In the back of the truck. While you were fighting I saw walkers."

"You should've warned us, not engage them yourself!" Glenn's voice is now raising, but the boy still doesn't really respond.

"I did, but you weren't listening. And he did too" he says, pointing at Eugene, who looks around anxiously. "I thought that since he's a scientist he can save the world. But not if he gets bit. That's why I decided to protect him."

Glenn opens his mouth to object or at least scold him, but he can't. Neither can I in his place. Not because the boy hates me, but because there is no way you can be mad at a kid who can think this fast and reasonable.

"How did you know how to handle those weapons, kid?" Abraham's voice sounds from the truck. The boy turns around, before carefully laying the gun on the ground. He kneels down, and without touching it, he points at several parts of the weapon.

"You use this to aim. This too shoot. This is the safety. This is the magazine, which you can reload. That's basically all you need to know, right?"

Abraham takes a few steps towards us, glancing from Calvin back to us. "You didn't teach him, did you?"

Glenn shakes his head. "But I might know who did."

While saying that, I hear something of both nostalgia and fear in his voice, which is a weird combination. Like thinking about that one scene you never thought of as screwed up when seeing it as a kid, but when watching it as an adult it freaks you out. That's what he sounds like.

"But she doesn't really like guns" Calvin says, "but she still thought I should know how to use one. Just in case."


	12. Chapter 11

**Heyho!**

 **IT'S FRIDAY! But damn, the first half of the sixth season of TWD has ended, now there's nothing to do on Sundays...**

 **BUT WAIT! WHAT'S THAT?! A SUDDEN YOUTUBE CHANNEL APPEARS!**

 **channel/UC4M854VH5JEFLQjQD2fYL8w**

 **LAURE N USED NEW VIDEOS EVERY SUNDAY! IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Carl_

My dad's asleep. That doesn't happen very often. And here I thought he'd slept enough after being unconscious for a couple days. But no, he's snoring like a pig.

Michonne also appears to be sleeping, but I'm not sure. She has her katana under her head, with one hand on the shaft. She doesn't move at all, even her breathing is unnoticeable. She sometimes reminds me of a cat.

I don't know why I woke up this early, but I'm not the only one. Vicky, who's just following us around for no reason. She doesn't know who we are, she's changed drastically herself, and she doesn't even want to go to this Terminus place. Why is she even here?

I turn my head towards the redhead, who leans back against a tree, her kneels pulled up and that filthy wolf toy in her lap.

We decided we should stay close to the railroad for the night, but also hide. That's how we found ourselves about a mile from the rail, lying in the mud like it's nobody's business. We almost look like a team now, with me, my dad and Michonne just as dirty as Vicky.

She seems to be very into whatever she's writing down at the moment, the paper leaning on her knees like a table, and sometimes mumbles non particular words like 'must' and 'good'.

Back in the prison, I often saw her write down things in a notebook, and she was always very patient and careful when doing so. Now, she just carried around loose papers and a pencil behind her ear. I once got a glance of one of the pages. Her writing style had always been worse than a doctor's for as long as I know her. But this time around…it seemed more like some weird piece of art no one understands and is very expensive for some reason.

We've both been awake for about an hour, since I took over the watch from Michonne, and we haven't said a word. I once considered this person a friend, or at least an acquaintance. If she was just another person I wouldn't care that we were both silent.

But this was Vicky.

Someone who put her own life on the line to protect us. Who opened her home to us, and gave us the responsibility of her 'palace'. She was the 'muffin queen'. And she remembers none of those things.

I wonder if she also lost her special ability.

"Hey Vicky" I say, and she looks up from her writing. So she does know her own name.

"Are you talking to me?"

Apparently she doesn't know. I nod. "Yeah, that's how you introduced yourself to us once."

She frowns. "I did? When?"

"Back in the prison, about a one and a half year ago."

Her eyes widen at the word 'prison'. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one.

"You were there, too?"

I nod slowly. I now have to be careful with what I say. "Yes. All three of us were there. You'd stayed there for the winter, and we arrived there the next spring. A whole group of people, actually."

"Are they dead?"

I clear my throat. This is just a friendly reminder that her social skills haven't improved in the past few months. "No, not all of them. They're out here, just like us."

"Maggie and Glenn too?"

I stare straight into the blue eyes with the ridiculous small pupils. A lot of things go through my mind; what does she and what doesn't she remember? What are her real motives for following us? Why Maggie and Glenn specifically? How dangerous is she exactly? Is all of his just an act?

"Yeah" I hear myself say. "They…were part of our group. How…exactly do you know them?"

She shrugs. "I met her sister on the way here. She told me all about them, and I said I wanted to meet them. And if they were part of your group as you say, they may go to this Terminus place as well, since Rick said every one of the group would go there. Kinda sucks, because now I have to choose between that stupid Terminus and Gleggie…that's the ship name I came up with. It could also be Mann, but I don't like that as much as Gleggie. It sounds cute, don't you think?"

"Wait, you met Beth?" I suddenly feel ice cold. They'd met up with Vicky before we did. I don't know what happened between them, and the fact that Vicky was alone when she came to us doesn't really give much hope.

"Well, yeah, she said her name was Beth, but I think she's more of a 'Jenny'-kind-of-person."

Vicky just spoke past tense. Please, don't let it be a sign.

"Was she alone?"

The face of the redhead suddenly stops smiling. It seems as if someone threw a shadow curtain over it.

In my head I make a list. First; grab your gun. Second; wake dad. Third; try reasoning.

"No" she answers, her voice almost a whisper. "She wasn't. And if I'm unlucky, she still is traveling with him."

From the corner of my eye, I see Michonne slightly move. So she indeed wasn't sleeping. She doesn't trust the redhead even one bit.

She'd do anything to keep me from being alone with Vicky.

"What's his name?" I ask, still trying to get as much information as possible.

"Dunno, don't care."

That's it. Vicky turns back to her writing, her face still angry, but more controlled. I glance over my shoulder to Michonne, who still lays on the ground.

But now she holds her sword next to her.

Dear poopy diary,

Apparently I'm destined to run into people from my past whom I don't remember. It turns out Sword Lady, Rick and Cowboy were also at the prison, same as Grumpy and Jenny. And Gleggie.

Cowboy asked an awful lot about Grumpy and Jenny. I just told him I ran into them and we stuck together for a couple days. The details about Grumpy's possible death have been carefully masked. For now, I just need to play the sweet innocent girl if I want to get to Gleggie. Of course, I could take a different route and get there on my own, but I like to have some fun on my way there. As long as it stays fun, that is.

Sword Lady really seems to be bothered by my presence, which I find odd, because I'm awesome. Why would you not like me?

Rick, on the other hand, likes to have me around. He keeps asking me to walk in the front with him. I think it's our special team strategy. The strongest, meaning me and Rick, at the front, Sword Lady in the middle as our backup, and Cowboy in the back, as the swiftest he can warn us from attacks from behind. The ultimate strategy.

The only thing that's not cool about this strategy is the fact that nothing ever happens. We just keep walking and walking, and every time I try to make conversation I get told off because there could be creepers around. Such bullshit. I'd rather have a few creepers behind me then some lame group as this.

Something's been bothering me for a while now, oh dear diary. Of course, you can't help me since you're only letters. And I created you. Which means I could just be talking to myself right now.

Doesn't matter.

Point is; I keep getting this strange feeling in my stomach when I think of Terminus. It's something like when you're about to do something really scary, such as a rollercoaster going down at high speed. I have no idea why, but I got the feeling that it's somehow part of my past. Which is both a good and a bad thing.

There are a couple reasons why I would want my memories back. I want to know about Gleggie, Rick, Jenny, Cowboy and Sword Lady and what my connection was to them. And, sadly, also Grumpy. I want to know about the prison and where that prison is right now and why we're not in that prison anymore.

There is one big reason I don't want my memories. That Terminus place scares the shit out of me and there must be a really good reason for it. I've honestly never been so scared in my life and I don't want to know the reason.

I've tried to warn Rick, I really did. But I have no solid arguments to convince him and that sucks. If they go to Terminus they might run into their own deaths.

Which means it's not a big deal if I were to kill them. Right here and know. Wouldn't be much of a difference. And it's also refreshing for me. It's been ages since I looked a dying person in the eye. Saw the life slowly stream away.

It's been too long.


	13. Chapter 12

**Ahoy!**

 **Freshly written, still warm, here it is: chapter 12, with a new point of view added. I was very excited to write this one, because I don't know much about this character in particular, but I think it turned out ok. Feel free to prove me wrong XD**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own TWD. I have a YT channel though... channel/UC4M854VH5JEFLQ** **jQD2fYL8w)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _A_ _braham_

Narrowing my eyes, I try to pierce my vision through the shadow of the forest, trying to sense any nearing danger. It seems luck is on our side this night.

Even with a camp fire lit, we haven't encountered any threads since this afternoon. This might be our first full night of sleep in a very long time.

We decided to place our minorities in our team in the back of the truck to rest, and share the watch between our strongest members. The little boy seems to be asleep already, as his body slowly moves up and down. Eugene Porter, however, makes the loudest snoring noises, as if he's purposely ringing the dinner bells. It's a good thing Rosita shoves him every few minutes to shush him.

If I wasn't aware of the relationship between Glenn and the boy, I'd think he was some nasty man staring at kids from his bedroom window, but it's nothing like that. The way he keeps watch over the boy tells me he somehow feels responsible for him, even though they're not blood-related.

Tara, the girl traveling with him, walks up to me, a gun in her hand. "I'll take over. You take some rest."

"I doubt I can" I mumble, but still follow her advice. With a backpack under my head I make myself comfortable on the ground, close to the fire. The night's may be not that cold, but who knows when someone gets a cold. In a world where the dead rise up around every corner, nothing surprises me anymore.

But gladly, we are the ones to fix that. And with new team members, our path to Washington DC becomes easier to walk. Yes, walk. As long as we don't possess any vehicle of some kind, we'll have to use our own feet to progress.

At first sight, I imagined the boy causing unnecessary trouble for us in the future. But after witnessing him today, his clear aim and determined firing, I might have to change my mind.

"Hey" I say, while turning towards Glenn. For a second, he glances away from the boy. "He's got balls."

Glenn stares into the fire we've made, his face unreadable. "I wouldn't call it that."

"He's daring. Knows how to defend himself. Is that what you wanna hear?"

In the silence which follows, Eugene lets out another loud snore. Rosita gives him a firm poke in the back. The man coughs, moans, then sighs.

"It's just not right" Glenn continues, pulling strain of grass from the ground. "He's a kid. He shouldn't know how to handle again. Or….how to kill in general."

While talking, he rips the grass apart, the strains leaving green marks on his fingers. I purse my lips and shrug. "I'd rather prefer him shooting a gun than to watch him get eaten."

"Of course, that's what I'd want too" he quickly says. "It's just ….screwed up. That he has to know all these things. When I was his age, I'd just gotten my first Game Boy. I would play outside. I'd annoy the neighbours, not kill undead people."

I sigh. "Yeah, it is cruel. We've all had the pleasure of experiencing that first hand." With that, I sit up. From the corner of my eye I see Rosita shake her head. She knows what I'm about to say. I lean a bit forward, looking the guy in the eyes. "That's why we need to stop this. That's why we need to get to Washington."

Glenn stares back at me for a second, then turns back to the fire. As I sit back, I eye Rosita, who has her eyes squinted back at me.

"I appreciate your smooth talk" Glenn says, still focused on the fire. "But I'm not coming with you."

Resting my head back on the backpack, I close my eyes, making it look like I'm about to fall asleep.

"Your choice. But you're missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime- chance to turn the world back to what it used to be. A place for that kid to grow up normally."

"Look" I hear Glenn say, and notice a fire burning where the following words come from, "I'm not his father or his guardian or anything. I just so happen to stumble upon him and I'm only looking out for him until we find his brother, who might just be where Maggie is. Our first priority is to find the both of them, and so far we haven't come across any signs that they might've gone to Washington, so we don't have any reason to go there either. Sure, be the hero, save the world. We have no interest in helping you."

"Shh!" I hear Rosita shush. Without him noticing, Glenn keeps raising the volume of his voice, making the rest of our team anxious for nearing walkers. I hear some stumbling, which makes it sound like Glenn's standing up.

"I'm gonna take a leak" he mumbles, and then his footsteps slowly fade away. Eugene coughs as Rosita pokes him again. In the dark I hear her sigh angrily.

"You can be a real dick sometimes, Abe" she says softly, almost grunting. I don't respond, as I'm 'asleep'. That only makes her more irritated. "Very mature, Abraham."

 _Rick_

"Rick! Rick!"

Before she can shout again, I cover her mouth with my hand. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to take her with me on a supply run. She has absolutely no talent for sensing danger whatsoever.

The walker the was pointing at so enthusiastically slowly turns it head to our direction.

"Shit" I mumble, as I realize there's no point in hiding anymore. I take my knife from my belt and with a scaring ease plant it in its forehead. With a last growl the undead collapses un the ground, under loud hurray of the redhead behind me.

"Be quiet!" I hiss, as I look around once more. The inside of the store seems to empty for now, but I'm not sure what's walking around outside. Michonne should be able to handle it, but I don't like to take unnecessary risks.

"We're shopping, we're shopping!" Vicky softly sings, while dancing between the shelves. Since the nights are getting longer and the days shorter, it seemed better to get ourselves some more clothes. Not only us, _her_ too. _Her_ especially. She couldn't keep walking around in a blanket all winter.

The redhead ducks behind a shelf in the men's section. I don't even bother to correct her. Nowadays, no one cares where your clothing comes from anymore.

After a few seconds, she jumps up again, holding up an enormous red sweater. "How about this?"

I shrug. "Try it on."

Vicky looks at the sweater, and grab the price tag. "Forty dollars! I can't afford that!"

I stare at the girl for a while, trying to figure out if she's joking or not. She seems genuinely upset about the high price this sweater used to have. She is seriously worried.

"You don't have to pay for it" I say eventually. Vicky looks up, her eyes shining like Christmas lights.

"Really?!"

I nod slowly, still not sure what to make of this. The redhead then starts running around the store, grabbing all pieces of clothing. She stores all of them on one huge pile in a corner, close to the fitting chambers.

"I like shopping, I like shopping" she whispers, completely focused on her task. I decide to leave her be for a while, and look around myself, trying to find some nice things for Carl. Michonne said she didn't need anything, but I think Vicky will at least have her one oversized jumper.

I don't know how, but suddenly I stand in front of the baby section. As soon as I realize it, I turn my head away. There's so much pink.

Biting on the inside of my cheek, I breathe through my nose. After all those attempts to block her out of my memory, now this happens. As if life hadn't pulled enough cruel pranks on me.

Judith. My dear Judith.

I bow my head. Why? Why now?

"Rick?" The voice of the redhead forces itself through my mind. "Hey Rick, I need a second opinion!"

Taking a last deep breath, I want to take a step, when I see something colourful from the corner of my eye. Looking back, I see something tiny.

A pink baby shoe. It even has a little pixie on it.

I kneel down, carefully lock my fingers around it. It's about the same size as my hand.

"RIHICK! Hurry up, will you!"

With some clothes I gathered, I make my way to the fitting chambers, where Vicky has wrapped a pair of jeans around her head like a bandana and is wearing a pyjama.

The baby shoe fits in my pocket. She might not ever get to wear it, but I like to think she will.


	14. Chapter 13

**Aaaaand here's another chappie-cho, with yet again a new POV. I like exploring new characters. If you feel like I've interpreted it wrong or just think it's plain OOC, send me a PM and I'll try to do better next time! ;)**

 **(Disclaimer: After almost three years of this story, I still don't own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Rosita_

I feel like we're back to where we left off in the first place; on foot. I'd always hated the screeching sounds the army truck made while driving, and the bumpy roads which made the lower half of my body always numb, but now I wished for those minor complications.

We'd left early in the morning. I don't think I've closed my eyes for even one minute, but for some unexplainable reason I feel totally fine. Eugene, on the other hand, looks like he's about to pass out, even though he's the one person who slept through the whole night. Such a whiner.

Abraham's not looking too bright either, but I know he can handle it. Glenn just looks miserable all the way through, but that's probably caused due to his recent sickness. Tara looks more paranoid than tired, which I can understand.

It's too quiet out here. We've still got a long way ahead of us, and that makes me worry about the weakest member of our crew; the kid. He seems exhausted and keeps tripping over his own feet, his eyes barely opened and his face looks like nothing more than a skull with a thin layer of skin pulled over it. Glenn often glances over his shoulder, but doesn't attempt to help him in any way. It's like he doesn't know how to. And most of all; he seems scared of the kid. And all that just because he knows how to pull the trigger.

Tara, whom I figured was also responsible for the boy, seems even less interested in him. I just learned last night that she and Glenn had only met the other day, and decided to travel together. Of course she hasn't had the time to bond with the kid in any way, but she doesn't try it either.

I feel bad for him. He looks and probably feels miserable having to travel with people who treat him like grownup and not having his parents around. They're probably dead, I suppose.

Abraham asked me to look after Eugene while we're on the road, and due to the doctor physical state we're basically walking at the tail of the group. Eugene often needs to pause and we can't really keep up like this, but I don't really have a choice.

It's midday, the sun shines directly on to us. There are no trees next to the road, which means no shadows to cool down under. We're almost out of water, which will be a problem later on.

The boy is slowing down and it won't be long before even Eugene will catch up to him. The doctor needs to pause again, and I take this time to walk up to the kid.

"Hey, you ok?"

The boy turns around, sweat glimmering over his entire face. "I'm good, just a little thirsty."

I give him a smile, in the hopes of making him feel better somehow. With one hand I search through my backpack, and lock my hand around a plastic bottle. "Here. It's not much, but I figured you're still growing, so…you can have it."

The boy looks at the bottle in my hand, and licks his lips. But for some reason, he hesitates. He turns his head to Eugene, who's panting like a pig. "I think he needs it more."

I glare over my shoulder. "Nah, he's had enough already. C'mon, drink."

"You first."

I frown. "What? You think it's poisoned or something?"

He shakes his head. "No, that's not it. But you need it too. I'll take the rest."

After hesitating, I decide that he's right. My mouth feels like a desert. I take one drop, and one drop only. The kid's too kind.

When I hand him the bottle, I watch how he slowly lets two drops land on his tongue. It seems to wake him up somehow, but I thought he'd at least take a whole sip.

"We have more people" he says when he catches me staring at him. "And the next river must be ahead."

"Yeah…" I mumble, not sure how to respond. This kid is way too smart for his own good. And kind too. It seems he has a 'switch'; a different personality. Some people have two personalities; one is themselves, and the other is another character taking over the body when needed, for example when something happens such as an accident, a fight, or a life-threatening situation. I think that's what happened yesterday.

Most of the people who have this discover this during their puberty. But this kid is what…ten? That's crazy.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask after a while. We've been walking for a while now, behind Eugene that is. I can't have him slacking off, so I keep a close eye on him.

The boy's health seemed to have improved a little. He's more alert and talkative than before.

"Sure" he answers lightly.

"Who taught you how to shoot?"

The boy shrugs. "Just some girl back home. She was my best friend, and she said she was my sister. But then she wasn't anymore and then she disappeared."

I nod. It isn't a very clear answer, and if curiosity takes over I might ask Glenn about it later. "Back home? You mean the prison?"

To my surprise, a smile appears on the boy's face. As if good memories came to his mind. "Yeah. She called it her 'palace', and she was the queen. My brother and I lived there for a while." He sighs. "I wish I could go back there. The prison was nice."

"I often wish I could go back home too" I say, trying to make conversation. This kid deserves a small talk. "And maybe I can someday. If we make it to Washington."

"I also wish my mom would come back. Then me, Dan and Vicky could all live together in the prison. If Vicky would stop being mean, that is."

I freeze. That name. What's with that name…why does it give me Goosebumps?

The boy turns around, his face worried a little. "What's wrong?"

"What was that name?"

"Uh, Vicky. She's the girl that taught me how to shoot." He frowns. "Is everything ok? Did I say something wrong?"

I narrow my eyes, my sight piercing Abraham's back, hoping he'd somehow turn around. But he's too far away, and I don't want to shout since there could be walkers near.

It might just be a coincidence, but still. The possibility of this girl being the same one as I have in mind…

The fact she calls that prison her 'palace' suggests that childish character we all fear so much.

"No" I answer, and a smile appears on my face. "Everything's fine."

 _Michonne_

Vicky holds up a bright yellow sweater with a teddy bear on it. "If you don't want it, I'll take it."

"You can have it" I mumble, grabbing a leather jacket from the box. I'd never expected Rick and Vicky would come back carrying three boxes full of clothes. I've gotten the feeling Rick quite likes having her around, despite the danger of her going berserk again. Carl is the same too.

For example; at the moment, the two of them are challenging each other how many sweaters they can put on. It looks like Vicky's winning, though.

"You know, this might be the best defence against walkers!" Carl says, after giving up. Soon I'll have to help him remove the seven remaining sweaters.

"Of course!" Vicky responds, easily slithering her petite body between the clothes. "We could just walk through without them giving a shit! How brilliant!"

"Keep it down, will you?" Rick grumbles, pointing at a walker appearing at the horizon. Vicky looks up like a puppy hearing a whistle. Her eyes lock at the walker, and a scary glimmer appears in her eyes. Her mouth curls into a conspiring grin.

"Time to test that theory" she says, and before anyone can respond, she's already running towards the silhouette.

"What the-" is all I can say, but then I ask myself why I even care. She'd survived this long on her own, there's no need for me to jump in. From the corner of my eye, I see Rick thinking the same thing. Worry crosses his face, but then he realizes he shouldn't be.

Over the last couple of days, it's becoming clear Rick's not going to send the girl off. Not yet, at least. He seems to be softer now, as if Vicky turned a switch. At this point, I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad one.

"WEEEEEEHOOOOO!" Vicky's voice sounds from afar. The great amount of sweaters is juggling around her thin body and she almost looks like a tennis ball bumping around the forest.

"There goes 'keeping it down'" I sigh, glancing at Rick. He rubs his forehead, like a father does when he doesn't know how to respond to his child.

Was that it, maybe? It's obvious Rick somehow feels responsible for the girl. But he can't see her as a daughter. Right…?

The walker finally notices Vicky nearing him, and spreads his arms in an attempt to grab her. But Vicky doesn't slow down, and when she's closing in on the walker, it's already too late to stop. She bumps into the undead man, who gets launched backwards a few feet. Vicky herself gets thrown back by the shock and lets out an excited cry. Like a little child in the Mary-go-around for the first time.

The walker gets his head pierced by a sharp branch which just so happened to be sticking out at the right height. He lets out one more growl before his arms drop.

Vicky rolls back on her feet, her eyes widened. "Did you see that?!"

"We sure did" I grumble, crossing my arms. I really have no idea how to respond to this.

Vicky points at the dead walker and bursts out laughing. "That's crazy!"

I snort. "Look who's talking."

Suddenly, the expression on her face changes. Not because of my response. I've been dropping these for the last couple days, she's used to those. But there's something else. Her face tells me she's remembering something, recognition.

"I've been here before" she mumbles, and then turns around. She still wearing the sweaters, which makes it look like she's wearing a fat suit of some kind.

She takes a few steps, analysing every tree she crosses. After a while she nods. "Yeah, it must be around here…."

I look at Rick, who lifts an eyebrow. "I have no idea."

Vicky kneels down in front of one particular tree, and knocks on the trunk. "Hello?"

I decide to walk over, one hand on the sword on my back. "What are you doing?"

I suddenly see her knife flicker in the sunlight as she cuts open the tree trunk. "I hid something here…something important…"

A second later, a piece of wood flies around my head. Several splinters dance through the air as the redhead breaks open the tree. After a while, she lets out a cry of surprise. "I knew it was you!"

She puts both her hands inside the tree, searching through. When she pulls back, she's holding an ancient sword.

I widen my eyes. "Where did you get that?"

Vicky pushes the weapon against her face like it's a fluffy animal. "I adopted him from a museum. His name is Boo!"


	15. Chapter 14

**"Merry Christmas, yah filthy animal!" - Norman Reedus on Instagram**

 **And yes, I never stop working nowadays, not even during Christmas. There's too much satisfaction in making the deadline :)**

 **Also, this chapter has another new POV, which I had a lot of fun with. Sorry for my immaturity here and there.**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Eugene_

Over the past week the weather has been at a constant temperature of a hundred degrees, which indicates that the season known to us as 'summer' is still blooming.

Due to the heat the human body suffers dehydration, which can cause a sunstroke and maybe even cases of seizures. Along our travel to the beforehand discussed destination neither of these occurrences have taken place yet. Although there has been some concerns about the child soldier of our team, who by far suffers the most due to these barely bearable circumstances.

"Eugene, keep it up!" The sexy babe, birth name Rosita Espinoza, shouts to her team mate. The doctor of our crew, as they suppose. "You're gonna lose the group if you keep going like this."

I nod. "Correct. Due to the lack of hydration my body might suffer the necessary complications in order to keep-"

"Oh, shut up!" the babe replies. Next to the fact that she is a hot, young lady she also seems to have gained motherly emotions towards the child soldier. As of now, she's carrying him on her back, known to many as 'piggy bagging'. Considering she does not particularly hold such feelings towards me and the fact that I am at least ten times the weight of the child soldier, my chances of experiencing the same luxury are minimum.

"Why does he always talk like that?" the child soldier asks the babe. Even from this distance, I can hear the babe loudly sigh.

"I have no idea. He's been like this ever since I met him."

The child soldier looks over his shoulder with a seemingly interested look in his eyes. "Is he gonna be ok?"

Apparently the child soldier does not realize I too have a hearing ability, just like the other team members. And according to the answer the babe is giving, she does not either.

"He'll be fine. He's made it this far, a little more won't hurt."

This sentence might be interpreted in an erotic sense, but seeing the previous results after making such an implication the decision is made not to let them know about this crucial fact.

"Rosita!" The sergeant of our crew, known as the decisive Abraham Ford, calls out to his partner, the babe, from around a corner covered by vegetation.

"What is it?" the babe shouts back, which is not the way people should talk in a situation like this. As we are traveling right now, we are an easy moving target. Enemies have the opportunity to attack us from both sides and surround us in a matter of minutes. Maybe this has already happened, which is why the sergeant would call out to soldier Babe.

"Back it up a little" sergeant continues. "We got some trouble over here. Take care of Doctor Porter."

"Roger" babe answers. With determined steps with her natural good formed legs she closes the distance between us. As a matter of procedure, she puts the child soldier back on his own feet. "Both of you, stay behind me. Keep your eyes and ears open, there might be more hiding."

As demanded, I analyse the area. One side is forest vegetation, the other farm land with high grass. Wind is barely noticeable, which makes it easier to find the threat. When encountering movement, shoot to kill.

The child soldier is holding a gun. There is no fault in there, since he is a soldier. It is the 'child' part which causes some disturbances in my calculations.

"It would be better for the operation if I was handed a fire arm as well" I tell the babe. She looks at me with something that could either be a glare or surprise. Maybe both, since babes are difficult to read.

"Last time you had a gun you shot our truck. No way you're touching any again."

There are several gun shots echoing from the position sergeant Ford is stationed, along with two of our soldiers. It seems they're having difficulties defeating the enemy. At the same time movement is signalling the radars as the leafs in a bush riffle.

"Shit" the babe says. By this, I assumes she says it as a means of frustration, not a verb. With scarily ease she raises her weapon, a type which is unknown to me but my hypothesis concludes it might be a handgun. The child soldier carries the same kind of weapon with him.

"Just try to stay out of sight for now" the babe continues. An undead being, better known as a 'walker', rises from the shadow of the forest vegetation. This gives my body the signal to start streaming tiny neutrons at a massive speed through my veins, causing both my brain and heart to pulse. Some say this phenomenon is 'panic', others 'a moment of insight'. Since I prefer the sound of the second one, this is what I shall call it. I have a moment of insight, while the babe and the child soldier seem determined and confident in what to do in this tight situation.

"Calvin, please step back" the babe tells him. "I'll take it from here. You protect Eugene as best as you can, ok?"

The child soldier nods a soldier nod as the babe leaves to engage in battle with the walker. A second one has appeared, which might make it difficult for her.

"Mister, please stay behind me" the child soldier commands. This does not please me at all. It is obvious that a person like me isn't suited for battle, but that does not give this child permission to order me around as if he is of a higher authority.

"I understand your means of wanting to protect me and I'm aware that you have already proved to be able to do that, but I suggest you do not speak to me in that manner ever again" I tell him. Yet he does not seem affected by my scolding at all.

"Whatever floats your boat."

The babe seems to have trouble exterminating the enemy, as one of the walkers made it through the wall of defence. The child soldier immediately raises his gun and shoots without hesitation. It is indeed a perfect shot, clear through the brain.

He then takes the time to turn around and glare at me myself. "You wanna do the next one?"

"I prefer to be our last line of defence, so no thank you kindly."

Dar dar,

GUESS WHAT?! CHICKENBUTT!

No, but really. Something amazing happened. Some time ago, I found Boo, my awesome companion. Sadly, I forgot where I put him, which was very annoying. I even forgot to write it down, so not even you would know where he's been all this time.

But there was a tree, and it suddenly all came back to me, which was very weird and exciting. I saw like scenes form a movie or something. So cool.

I found Boo after I went shopping with Rick. It was really fun, I got to try out some new styles and Rick was like my Randy. You know, that guy from _Say yes to the dress._ But without the eyebrows, I guess.

When we got back Carl and I did a competition who could wear the most sweaters. Obviously, I was the winner, because I win at everything. And then I saw a creeper and I killed it. And then I saw this tree and I knew Boo was there and it was so cool.

Zoro was very happy as well, because he and Boo are best buddies. That can be annoying sometimes, because then they're talking about something and I want to know what but they won't tell me. But other than that we are a cool team.

Rick seemed very happy that I found Boo. I like Rick.

Sword lady was a little confused, I think. And jealous, of course. Who wouldn't want an awesome sword like Boo? OK, I gotta admit, her katana is bomb as well, but Boo is always my number one.

Sword lady is also like a professional or something. She kills creepers like it's her everyday job. Well, I guess it is now, but still. I thought I was good with the sword, but I think I have to train more.

O. MY . GOD. I JUST HAD THE GREATES T IDEA EVER!

Sword lady is like super awesome and I bet she can share some of her techniques with me. SHE'S GONNA BE MY SENSEI EVEN IF SHE DOESN'T WANT TO.

I'm just gonna ask it nicely. If she refuses, I'll ask again. If she still doesn't want to, I'll use a special method. If she still doesn't break, I 'll use some force. Not _the_ Force, but some different force. As long as she needs motivation I'll keep asking.

With her help, I'll become the greatest sword master that ever lived. And I'll also be an assassin, because I have to go check on Grumpy. If he's dead, that's sad. I'd love to have some more fun with him, and after becoming the best swords master in the world that's gonna be awesomeeeeee.


	16. Chapter 15

**Happy Hangover!**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Vinnie_

Finally. That lady leaves me alone.

I get it, I really do. The way she's been trying to bond with me are really sweet, but pointless. All she wants is to convince me to go with her to Washington. I go, Glenn might as well.

But I don't want to go to Washington. I don't like it there. And Dan's most probably not there either.

All Glenn cares about is finding Maggie. I have no idea what Tara's doing, and I don't care. She killed Hershel.

I don't understand why Glenn can't see that.

These people also give me the creeps. Rosita, the lady, is of course very nice, but I don't trust her. And the doctor is really weird. Especially his hair. And he doesn't act like a doctor at all. More like a scared mouse. With bad hair.

And the leader of the group is very scary. He and Glenn fought the other day, and they still don't seem to like each other that much.

A few days ago, we came across a sign. There were several others just like it; a map and a poem about this place called Terminus. But on this one there was a message. It said;

 **GLENN GO TO**

 **.**

 **MAGGIE SASHA BOB**

I think she meant going to Terminus.

Glenn freaked out about it and now he's set on going to that place. But I don't want to.

Dan's probably not there either. I just know it. He's somewhere else.

The army guy got really pissed at Glenn again, and now they're both angry. They're screaming at each other, while Rosita and Tara try to keep them from killing each other. The doctor with the strange hair just sits on the ground playing with grass, as if he couldn't care less.

For once, I understand him.

Now that the grownups are busy, I have my chance. I'm through with walking through the sun without water, going nowhere in particular and basically doing nothing. Glenn clearly doesn't want me here, I don't want Tara around, and those other people don't know what to do with me either.

They think I'm too stupid to notice. But I'm smarter than they think. Being around dangerous people taught me to analyse every move, eye contact, tiny gestures.

For example, the other day, when I was talking to Rosita, I mentioned Vicky. She suddenly went silent, and for the next few days she didn't seem honest with me. She kept smiling, but looked scared at the same time. She somehow knows who Vicky is. I bet they all know. And apparently they don't like her very much.

I don't like her now either. I hate her.

She left the prison because no one liked her. But I liked her a little. I also hated her, but not really. She was my friend.

She left the prison. She left us, she left me. And it lasted only a few weeks before the fall of the prison. If she hadn't gone away, things might've turned out differently.

I sit down at the side of the road, while the grownups keep shouting at each other.

Vicky must be dead by now. No matter how strong she is, she can't survive for this long on her own. And that might be for the better, since she seems to cause trouble even if she's not around. I don't think Abraham would like it very much if he knew we knew Vicky. But I don't think Rosita told him yet.

I look around a little. Abraham is grabbing his gun, while Rosita pushes him back. Glenn shakes his head, while Tara stands between him and that army man. They seem very busy with what they are doing. Perfect.

Slowly, I stand up. I can't make any unnecessary movements, otherwise they'll see. Behind me, a forest begins. It's a very big one, I can barely see three feet in. That will make it even harder for them to find me.

Because I don't want them to find me. I bet they won't even start looking, because none of them even want me around.

I'll find Dan on my own. He must be somewhere, anywhere but Terminus or Washington.

Dan was on the bus. We found that same bus and everyone there was dead. But Dan wasn't among them.

Dan wouldn't go to a place with a stupid name like 'Terminus'. He would start looking for me first, which is why I have to show him where I've been. Leave some tracks he can follow, so he'll eventually find me.

Dan also wouldn't be as stupid as to write down where he was going. What if someone like the Governor would follow the same route? What if the Governor would follow it himself?

I didn't see him die. He might as well be still walking around here somewhere, hiding in the shadows.

And their shouts are only asking more and more attention.

But I'm little, and quiet. And I have a gun. I can do this. I can fight on my own.

I swiftly move between the branches, careful not to touch any. If it moves, they'll think I'm a walker.

The forest is very thick, there are plants everywhere. I feel the grass scraping the skin of my legs and it kinda hurts. There are no birds or other animals around, which is scary. But I have to keep going. I have to find Dan.

I create some distance between myself and the grownups, and after a while I can't see them anymore when I look over my shoulder. And that makes me smile.

See? I can do this! I can-

No. No. No, no, no.

Where did he come from? I hadn't seen him. And why is he so fast? I don't have time to grab my gun. Is it even loaded? No, I don't think so.

It hurts. It really hurts.

It makes me scream.

I can't see him. Maybe it's for the better.

I can feel my blood streaming down my neck. It's warm.

 _Carl_

"You want me to do _what_?"

Vicky's eyes glimmer. "Please be my sensei!"

Michonne crosses her arms, and seems pissed for some reason. "Is this a joke?"

Vicky bows again, even deeper now, her sword still carefully lifted in the air. "No, I swear. I want you to teach me how to wield the sword, oh great master."

Michonne still doesn't seem convinced, and eyes me. I shrug, and all I can do is laugh. When Vicky is dead serious about something, it must be for some ridiculous plan of hers.

"Hell no" Michonne says emotionless. Vicky immediately sits up, her eyes widened in shock.

"Please, oh please!" she begs, pushing her face against the ground. Michonne walks past her without saying a word. She strolls over to my dad, who's checking the area for us. We're still following the rail road to Terminus. For almost a week now. There seems to be no end to it.

"She's not doing it" I say, kneeling down next to Vicky. She slowly lifts her head up, her face covered in mud.

"That's not fair. All I ask is a few secret techniques, that's all" she mumbles with a pulled up lip. "It's not like I'm after world domination or anything…"

I shrug. "I think she thinks we don't have time. Which is totally understandable."

Vicky frowns. "But we had time to go shopping! Why not schooling?!"

Michonne glances over her shoulder with a concerned look. I just smile, as a gesture that everything's ok.

Michonne still needs to warm up to. Vicky, but at least she leaves me alone sometimes. But she's always near.

Which is both relieving and weird.

Spending some time alone with Vicky and teaching her some useful things might help, but she clearly doesn't feel like it.

Vicky sighs. "I need to wash my face. And now my new clothes are all dirty as well. Boogers!"

I frown. "Boogers?"

Vicky looks up a glimmer in her eyes I used to see in the looks of the little children in the prison. "I read that in a book. I think it's a way of swearing, but without being nasty. Don't you like it?"

"Well, of course, but….isn't it kinda old fashioned?"

Vicky shrugs. "I don't really care, I like the sound of it." She pats the sand of her jeans, as if it will help any, and hangs the sword at her belt. The weapon doesn't have a holder, but it doesn't look sharp enough to do any damage.

"I'm gonna go look for a stream or a puddle or something. I'll catch up with you guys."

"Wow, wait" I say, as I block her path. "Someone should go with you. What if something happens?"

Vicky narrows her eyes, and for a while all she does is stare. I'm not sure whether she doesn't understand or she's angry at me for saying that.

Then she grins. "Oh, Carl. Are you that worried about me? How sweet!" She then leans forward, lifts her hand. Before I can duck, she's grabbed hold of my right cheek. "Squishy, squishy!"

From the corner of my eye, I see Michonne laying a hand on her katana. Before she can rush over, I've already freed myself from the redhead's grip.

She giggles. "Cute, that's what you are."

But then, as if a curtain is thrown over the stage, the happy expression on her face changes. She leans forward once again, but this time it's to whisper in my ear. "But do not underestimate me ever again."

For some reason, those words send a shiver down my spine, as if she's just spilled ice cold water on my back. When she runs away, all I can do is blink in confusion.

Did she just threaten me?

"Carl?" Michonne lays a hand on my shoulder, her face concerned. "Everything alright?"

I stare at the dancing red hair becoming smaller and smaller as Vicky disappears into the forest. "Yeah. It's cool. She's off to find some puddle to wash her face."

Michonne glares over her shoulder to the girl, and narrows her eyes. "Alright. Stay here, I'm going after her."

DEAR DIARY

I CAN'T DO IT.

WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME?!

I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

WHAT DID I DO WRONG?

I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO HOLD ME.

NO.

I WANT TO KILL.

KILL EVERYONE.

KILL THE BIRDS.

KILL THE WOLVES.

KILL THE HORSES.

KILL THE PEOPLE.

I HATE THEM.

I WILL KILL THEM ALL.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

I HATE THEM.

Dear diary,

Michonne doesn't want to teach me. I was very sad, so I walked away for a little. I wanted to be alone, because Carl was stupid to me too. So I wanted to walk it off.

But this stupid Sword Lady I HATE HER she went after me. She said I should stay away from Carl and Rick, because I bring danger. I HATE HER But I'm not dangerous. All I do is kill bad people, like Grumpy. I don't like bad people. Michonne is I HATE HER starting to look like one.

I didn't mean to kill her. I really didn't.

I want Grumpy to die, but not Sword Lady. I don't think she's breathing.

I can't call for help, because Rick will shoot me. But where do I go? I still have to find Grumpy, but he's in Terminus and I don't want to go to Terminus because that is a nasty place full of bad people I WILL KILL THEM ALL and Jenny is probably mad at me too and I don't know what to do and o my god she is bleeding I think she's dead Zoro is not talking to me Boo is crying why is this happening please help me I just want to die.


	17. Chapter 16

**Heya**!

 **you people should know by now that there is always a time in the year where I just don't have time/motivation/not a mental breakdown to write a new chapter. I'm taking it easy for now, praying the weekly uploads will return. As for now, enjoy this little piece of (shi)ar(t)t.**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy!;)**

 _Glenn_

Tara almost pushes the bottle of water in my face.

"Drink" she demands. She gives the bottle an extra push when I don't respond. Quietly taking a sip, I try to ignore the hateful looks thrown at me from Abraham's side. Rosita has her hand on his shoulder, and I'm almost sure if she removes it he'll jump me again.

"Asshole" I mumble. For Calvin's sake I tried to keep my foul language to myself, but I honestly don't care anymore. Terminus or Washington. I shouldn't even have to consider which one to choose. And after crossing the sign, these people know that as well.

"Glenn?" Tara asks, as she sits down next to me at the side of the road. "I just want you to know…that wherever you go, I'll follow."

I look away from the second most annoying redhead I know. "Tara….you don't have to. If you wanna go to Washington, you can."

She shakes her head. "No, I'm not going to Washington. It's my fault you and Maggie got separated-"

"Stop that" I interrupt her. "Quit blaming it all on yourself."

"But who else is there to blame? I was involved, and that's all that matters!" She pauses to sigh, and to seemingly gather some strength to speak again. "Look, I'm gonna make sure you make it to Terminus. I'll take you there myself. I'm not leaving until you and Maggie are together again."

All I can do is stare. I don't even know what to say. If you think about it, it's the logical thing to do. She repairing the damage she's done.

But I don't know if I would do the same if I was her.

Eventually, I just nod. Thanking her would be too early.

"Hey guys" Rosita suddenly says loudly, stepping away from Abraham. For some reason, Rosita seems terrified. "Where's the kid?"

In a reflex, I jump up. Last time I saw Calvin, he was behind us. He sat on his knees, resting.

"Shit" I mumble, looking around for any signs of the boy. "Calvin? Calvin!"

"Shut your trap!" Abraham barks, finally getting on his feet. "We don't need more unwanted attention."

I ignore him, but instead walk over to Eugene, who's standing not far away from where I last saw the kid. "Where is he? Where did he go?"

The man blinks, his eyes widened. "I'm afraid I am unable to answer your question explicitly correct due to-"

I grab the idiot by his shoulders and spit the following words in his face. "Don't give me that shit! Where is he?!"

Someone pulls me away from the guy, and for some reason, I let him. I can't think. It's all just a blurry mess. The kid's run off somewhere.

"Eugene, are you sure you didn't see him?" Rosita questions him. He shakes his head like a scared puppy.

"He must've gone himself" Tara says. Without listening to anything said any further, I sprint towards the border of the forest. It's the only place he could've gone to without us seeing it. He couldn't have gone back the way we came. No, it has to be here.

"Calvin!" I shout, pushing any branches out of my way. I hear others following me, but I don't bother to look who it is. "Calvin, come back!"

I finally make it out of the thickest part of the border and end up in a field without trees. Only grass, and no way of telling what direction to go.

"Calvin!" I shout again, my voice slowly breaking near the end of the name. I feel exhausted, I could fall to the ground any second. But I can't. The kid's still out there.

"Glenn, wait up!" Tara shouts, making her way through the bushes. Behind her is Abraham himself. Rosita must've stayed behind to protect Eugene.

"Why is he here?" I ask, although I don't really want to know the answer. Abraham shrugs.

"We lost a soldier. Gotta find him."

I'm about to reply with a stupid remark, when a gunshot interrupts my thoughts. I quickly turn my head to the left, where the sound echoes from.

"Over there" I say, almost unnoticeable. I start running over, going back into the mess of low hanging branches and annoying roots sticking above the forest ground. I feel the leafs making tiny cuts in my face, but I keep going.

I feel my foot getting stuck in a hole in the ground, but I don't allow myself to fall down. I keep going, making a jump over. I might've lost my shoe there.

He's my responsibility. I can't let him die.

"Calvin!" I shout again. Finally there is some room between the trees. I can see through the rows of vegetation, revealing several silhouettes of undead strolling in between. They turn their heads, curious to the new flesh brought upon the table. And just a few feet from where I'm standing, Calvin leans back against a tree trunk. He's holding up a small gun, finger on the trigger, loop pointed at me. Next to him lies a walker, face down, it's skull crushed by the bullet from the boy's gun.

There's a piece of meat missing from the boys neck.

As soon as he recognizes me, he drops his arm. Tears fill up his eyes. "It's empty."

Almost unable to move, I make my way over to the little boy, falling to my knees. Abraham gives the boy one look, before going over to the walkers nearing the scene. Tara hesitates, but then follows him. Calvin doesn't look at her.

"I got bit" he says, his voice nothing but a whisper. His chest slowly moves up and down, his voice breaking every now and then. He coughs, blood dripping down from the sides of his mouth.

I shake my head. "Yeah. You did."

The boy starts sobbing quietly. His body shakes with every sound he makes. He takes a breath again, and I can hear how difficult it is for the air to reach his lungs. "I….I thought I could. Do…. It."

I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling my lower lip tremble. "Do what?"

Abraham fires on a few walkers behind us. Calvin swallows, coughs, swallows, coughs. He stares at the big man with the moustache. "Find Dan. And….everything."

He lets out a cry, his back curling up and his little chest pushing out. He falls back against the tree trunk with a high pitched moan. "I don't want to."

I feel a lump building up in my throat, making it almost impossible to speak. "Me neither."

The boy gurgles and cries. "I didn't mean to!"

I nod, feeling my eyes burn. "I know."

Calvin cries out, his voice dying out slowly. "I'm… not sorry."

I force myself to grin, as the tears start to flow. "That's fine. That's totally fine."

Calvin moans again, more blood dripping down from his neck on the ground. He opens his mouth, but all he can say is a deformed shrieking version of words. A tear rolls from the corner of his eye. He slams his little fist in the ground, frustrated at himself.

With the last power he has, he lifts his thin arm. Slowly, he places a finger on the gun I have in my hand. He looks at me.

His mouth moves about slowly, forming the word 'please'.

 _Rick_

When I come back from a little scouting, I see to my surprise only Carl at the rendezvous point. I don't immediately worry, as Carl doesn't seem to do so either.

"Where's everybody?"

Carl shrugs. "Vicky's washing her face, Michonne went with her."

I lift an eyebrow. "Really? They went together?"

Carl doesn't look at me, which tells me he's hiding something. "Well, not exactly…more like Michonne went after Vicky for a chat, or something."

"A chat, huh?" I mumble, as I sit down next to my son. "Probably scolding."

Carl snorts. "Likely. But that's just how things are, I guess."

I nod slowly. Michonne hasn't been able to warm up to Vicky as much as we have. She seems to very aware of everything the girl does, and watches her every move. I appreciate her efforts in protecting Carl and such, but there is something called exaggeration. Not even me myself is that extreme.

And maybe we are a little careless. But the fact that we warmed up to Vicky doesn't mean we don't know the dangers that come with having her around.

"Do you think she's better?" Carl interrupts the silence. "Vicky, I mean?"

"I don't know if 'better' is the right word. Not as bad sounds more fitting."

Carl nods quietly, staring at the forest in front of him. "But I still think I like the previous version more. From when we first met her."

Without me really noticing myself, a grin spreads around my face. "Maybe. But we still don't know everything about her. She never told us anything about herself. That hasn't changed." I tip with my hands over my lips. "She's never gonna tell us who treated her wounds."

Out of the blue, the bushes start rustling. From behind the branches I see a shadow moving. I jump up, pushing Carl behind me. With a quick swing I have my gun in front of me, waiting for whatever is nearing steps into the light.

It stumbles around like a walker, but we can never make sure.

The first thing I see is a hand reaching out, and I put my finger on the trigger. But then I see who it really is.

"Michonne…?"

The dark skinned woman has one hand placed on her forehead, where blood drips between her fingers. She shakes her head. "The girl….she ran off…"

Carl gasps. "She did that?!"

I put my gun away and rush over to Michonne. "Let me see that. Carl, do we have anything to treat this with?"

Carl runs over to the backpack, stashed not far away from us. I help Michonne sit down, take her sword from her back. "What happened?"

Michonne shakes her head. "I went after her. Found her by the river. She was changing clothes…Rick, she was bit."

I frown. "What…? Did she turn?"

Michonne shakes her head again. "No. And she wasn't just once. Her entire upper body was covered in bite marks, or more like scars. It came to a point where I couldn't say if those were walker bites or animal's."

Carl runs over with a rolled up bandage and a tiny bottle of alcohol. Michonne slowly removes her hand. The wound's not too deep, luckily.

"I…I confronted her with it, asked how she got those. She said she didn't know. I asked her why she didn't tell us, and she panicked. She went crazy. Crazy."

I make a cloth wet with alcohol, and between I lock eyes with Carl, who's face has gotten as pale as a sheet.

"She started screaming" Michonne continues. "Telling me a hundred different ways to kill me, laughing, crying….I don't know what happened. She picked up a random stone from the ground, and jumped me." Michonne grunts when I place the cloth on the wound. "When I woke up, she was gone."

I nod quietly, as I try to find some kind of plaster to cover the wound with. After all the times I thought we were on a path to recovery, she had to ruin it.

"She's gotten into an episode" I mumble, finishing up the bandage. "I'm not a professional, but I can say that there isn't much we can do about it."

Michonne snorts. "We can. We can kill her."

I don't answer immediately. I eye Carl before I do. He doesn't seem too happy with it either.

We've tried so many times to find reasons not to kill the red haired girl. First, we convinced ourselves that we owed her, after all the favours she'd done for us. Then we used her as some kind of protective shield because of her lack of fear for death.

We kept convincing ourselves we needed to have her around.

But the truth was that she'd gotten a place in our hearts.

The moment she'd left the prison, that place was destroyed. And no matter how hard we'd try to restore it, it would end with someone getting hurt.

She'd gone too far. We all saw that.

"Next time we see her, she's dead."


	18. Chapter 17

**Hey all,**

 **sorry for the delay. Lots of things have been going on in the past few months, but I'm hoping to get back on track (again)**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Daniel_

My ears are stuffed. Like someone put cushions in them and pushed till it hurts.

My eyelids feel heavy as I lift them. I'm still lying in a bed, a blanket pulled up to over my chest and my arms next to my body. The room is very hospital-like, but more blank than the ones I've been to. When my grandfather was about to die, my mom, dad, Vinnie and me used to go see him. We'd put up all kinds of drawings on the wall, little cards or notes with messages, those kind of things.

It made his passing a lot nicer.

For some reason, the thought makes me smile. I should be panicking right now, but I feel quite calm. If I was in danger, I would know it. The people who treated me would've stripped me to the bed, but I'm basically free to leave. Unless they locked the door.

I sit up, leaning on my elbows. I remembered injuring my foot before blacking out. I don't know why I lost consciousness. Maybe I was hit on the head or something.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I'm wearing a green kind of uniform. A scrub, or whatever it's called. All that's missing is a mask and some gloves, and I could be a surgeon. I pull my knee up, letting my foot lean on the bed. It's wrapped in a bandage, carefully plastered. Clearly someone who knew what he was doing.

I carefully place my feet on the cold floor. Standing on my left foot still hurts, but it's doable. Cursing and grunting I manage to limb to the door. Through the glass, I can see a long hallway, with lights coming from different rooms in the hospital.

"What is this place?" I mumble to myself. Now, the panic starts to kick in. I don't remember much after escaping the prison, and that's scary.

Around the corner at the end of the hall, a tall man in a white coat appears. He wears glasses and his he's a little bald, for as far as I can see. He holds a few papers in front of his pace, while strolling over to my room.

I stumble back to the bed and sit down, as if I've just woken up. I don't know why I'm so careful.

The man shoves the papers under his arm and places a hand on the doorknob. I lean back into the pillows, folding my hands over my lap.

The man enters the room, his eyes widening a little as he sees me sitting. "Ah, you're awake. Good for you." He closes the door, grabs a chair, places it in front of the bed, and sits down. He does this as if he's done it a thousand times before. I notice he's not visibly armed.

"What is this place?" I ask. The man places his papers on a table with magazines, and folds his hands together, his elbows leaning on his knees.

"This is….or used to be….Grady Memorial Hospital. We nowadays just call it Grady." Having said that, he glances over at the long hall outside this room. "My name is doctor Steven Edwards. I fixed up that foot of yours."

He points at the bandage around my foot. I mumble a soft 'thanks'. I still don't trust this.

"So what's your name?"

I look up, the thought of saying a fake name crossing my mind. But I can't think of one. "Daniel. My name's Daniel."

Doctor Edwards nods slowly, and I see his eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses. "Alright, Daniel. You can stay here till that foot is all healed up. After that, you're gonna have to work to repay that service."

Ah, there it is. The catch. I grimace. "Of course. I should've known…."

Doctor Edwards shrugs. "That's just the way things work around here. I think Dawn will have time for you this afternoon. Until then, just stay in bed. Pushing that foot too hard could cause permanent damage."

The doctor stands up, grabbing his papers, and steps towards the door. I glance at my foot, moving my toes around. It doesn't feel that bad.

"See you around, Daniel" the doctor says, leaving the room. I watch him disappear around the corridor again, before getting off the bed. I can't stay here. Not while Vinnie's still out there.

I limp over to a cabinet, hoping to find some decent clothes, instead of a surgeon's outfit. Nothing, nothing but blankets.

I roll them around the floor. I could make a rope out of it.

I limp towards the window. It's locked down, it even has bars on the outside. They really want me to in here. I must be at least four stories from ground level. That's just great.

"Damnit" I mumble.

I hear footsteps coming from the hall. I frown as I see a couple men in police uniforms. Like actual city cops, not the town ones like Rick. These uniforms are dark blue and scary.

I freeze as one of the cops locks eyes with me. He pokes his colleague in the arm and points at me. The other one nods, and grabs a radio from his belt. He talks to the thing, then waits for an answer, and then puts the thing away again.

The cops continue walking, but don't approach me. They only glare at me as they pass my room. They're not coming in, but I have the feeling someone else will.

I'm trapped in here for sure. What a mess.

 _A letter_

Dear life, everyone, the world,

This is my final journal. More like a letter, but who cares.

I'm done. I don't want to anymore.

I can't. It's a fucking mess I don't want to be a part of.

Grumpy is an asshole, Jenny is alright but I'd kill her too if I had to, Sword Lady is annoying, Rick is alright but deserves a bullet sometimes, and Cowboy needs to shut the fuck up and maybe die as well. I hate them so much. I threw away the clothes we found together, because I liked my own dress better anyways.

Glenn and Maggie should exist and not just in Jenny's stupid stories. They're fucking impossible to find and I'm bored already. I'd probably kill them too if I found them.

Boo is useless. He doesn't do as I say, he's too heavy and he's not killing anyone. Zoro keeps judging everything I do and keeps telling me how he would've done it better than me and I just hate him.

So I killed them too. I threw Boo in the river and pushed Zoro off a cliff. I don't miss them. Not yet.

But oh well, who misses anyone if they're dead themselves?

That's right, my time has come. I'm not doing this shit anymore. I'm ending it once and for all because this life hates me and I hate it too.

There are a bunch of ways to die, and there are many on my bucket list. Unlucky for me, there are no walkers around, and I'm too lazy to go looking. I have no gun, and I threw away my sword earlier. I lost my dagger too, so no weapons. I could try to pierce myself with a pointy stick, but I don't think I'm gonna find the perfect one. Because my death needs to be perfect.

I could jump off the cliff, or into the river and drown myself. The cliff sounds dope. I mean, flying for a couple of minutes and then being splashed on the ground seems awesome. I probably won't feel much either, so that's fine.

The river seems cool too. Maybe I'll find some underground portal to Atlantis or something, and live with underwater people. Or maybe I'll see some mermaids.

I think that's a nice way to go. If my death needed a title, it would be like this; 'Girl drowning during search for mermaids'. I mean, that's the ultimate goal in life, am I right? Or the ultimate goal in death, depends on what you like.

I don't even know who 'you' is. I've been writing to a 'you' a long time, but I don't even know who 'you' is.

Ok, bye.

 _Rick_

"Dad?"

I glance over my shoulder to Carl, who walks next to Michonne. "Hm?"

"I think something's following us."

Michonne locks eyes with me. "I think that too. Not just something, someone."

I turn back to look to the road ahead. The moon seems rather bright tonight, so we get to save the batteries. But we can only see parts of the road. Who knows what's hiding in the shadows.

"Could be her" Michonne says. I shake my head.

"No, I don't think so. She's not the stealth kind. Let's not pay attention to it too much. Once we get to Terminus, we can make our moves against her."

A few feet further into the night, the road is blocked by a few cars. We hear some rumbling inside I nod to Michonne, who takes her sword of her back. She takes one side, I do the other. Simultaneously we open both car doors, getting rid of the walkers at once.

Dragging the body out, the car becomes a place to sleep for the night.

"I'll take first watch" I say, nodding to Michonne. She and Carl get in, while I stare into the darkness of the forest at both sides of the road. I expect to see a red flash any second now. To feel a knife in my back.

I hate that it has to be this way.

 _Morgan_

After I've deciphered the last few words, I look up to the streaming river. To have to make such a decision.

The style and the handwriting is identical to a notebook I found a few days ago. There were also a lot of lose pages, as if the person lost the book on the way but still wanted to continue writing.

I'm not sure if the person that wrote this is the girl I saved from this streaming river. I guess I'll ask her once she wakes up.

Leaning on my staff, I help myself up. My trousers are still wet and clinging to my legs, but I'm not as unlucky as the poor girl.

She has nothing but a cloth to keep her warm. Her face seems to be the result of some kind of torture, the flesh of her body is pulled over her bones as if she's nothing more than a walking skeleton, and her feet are cut up as she has no footwear.

I threw my own jacket over her and lit a campfire in the hopes of bringing her back, but her chest moves up and down so slow I'm not sure what she'll wake up like. Maybe I was too late.

Her red hair clings to her face, and with the lack of flesh she seems many years older. I'm guessing she's still a teenager, although I might be wrong.

I hear some rustling in the bushes nearby the river bank. A walker appears, walking with one foot in the river water. With one smooth swing, I knock it down. The body gets dragged along with the stream, the blood mixing with the bright waves. I watch as it falls down a waterfall not far away from us, before closing my eyes.

I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, wishing that person the best.

"That was awesome" I hear a voice say. I turn around, my staff held in front of me. The red haired girl sits up, both her cloths and my jacket wrapped around her. Her blue eyes shine in the light of the fire, and her deformed mouth cracks a smile.

I nod. "I wouldn't call it that myself, but thank you."


	19. Chapter 18

**Apologies for the delays lately. Been working on it, writing four chapters in advance.**

 **Hope you like it!**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

Hi how's it going,

Guess who's not dead? Me, little old me. There's this idiot called Morgan who can't keep away from people's business, so now I'm still alive. How's that?

Morgan is super awesome though. I really like him, but he had no right to take my choice away. And I'll get him back for that. Someday.

He gave me all these new clothes, and even walked away so I could change. I could've easily run off with all his stuff, but he said I wasn't the kind of person who would do that.

He's not very smart. He thinks he knows people. That's gonna hurt real bad when he finds out I'm not like 'people'.

Morgan has like this stick trick he calls 'Akido'. It makes him look like a ninja or something. And now I want to be a ninja too. Then I can shove that in Sword Ladies face when I see her again.

Well, if I ever see her again.

I asked Morgan if he could teach me the stick trick (it sounds really wrong, but that's your problem. Pervert.) and he said he would on one condition: he wanted me to tell him everything about myself. I was like 'ok but we're not on a date or anything'. Because that's the only time besides a job interview that you tell a stranger something about yourself. I really don't know shit about myself, but I'll just make some things up.

He said if I didn't want to, that was fine too. The only thing he's really interested in is how I got into the river.

Oh, that's right. I tried to drown myself. Didn't work.

K bye.

 _Daryl_

My clothes smell and Rick looks like a vampire. But at least he's alive.

Around us lay several dead bodies. Joe really did a number on us, and we repaid that double.

"So Vicky, huh?" I say after a long silence. Rick nods.

"She attacked Michonne and ran off."

I snort. "That's almost the same shit she did with us. She stabbed me."

Rick shakes his head, wiping some of the blood out of his beard. "If I'd known things would turn out this way, I would've killed her the first time we met. Right in the cellblock."

I search through my chest pocket, till I get my hands on a cigarette. "I told you so many times before, man. That night at the watch tower. And after the whole kidnapping thing."

Rick nods sadly. "Yeah."

A silence follows. Rick stares into nothing, while I search for a lighter.

He sighs. "From now on, we're not taking any more chances. See anything red, kill it."

I watch how the smoke leaves my mouth and feel the tobacco in my throat. "You sure you can?"

Rick looks over at the truck, where Michonne and Carl are taking a nap. "Yes."

 _Morgan_

The river streams by quietly, softly touching every small shining stone. The rippling surface is the roof of a new world underneath. The starry sky above a deadly forest, just like the dark curtain that lays over us now.

Several stars and the fire I lit earlier are the things keeping us awake. At the other side of the river shadows are moving, but none form a threat just yet. There is no wind, so every movement, every rustling leaf can be heard. I keep one eye on the bush over my shoulder, where I can feel the presence of something murderous.

The girl stares into the fire and barely blinks. Every now and then, she takes a sip of the soup I made her. Sometimes, she grabs a folded paper and writes something down with a tiny pencil, which she keeps in the many knots in her red hair. She seems to fly in the sweater I gave her as it's too big for her.

After writing another note down, she sighs.

"So yeah, after the whole drama with the sword lady I got bored. The only adventure left for me would…well, death."

I nod slowly, glancing at the paper lying next to her on the log. I feel the letter I found in the pocket of my jacket. I put the diary in my backpack earlier. Out of decency, I've only read the first few pages. She began writing a day before the walkers took over the world. "You like writing?"

The girl takes another sip of the improvised bean soup I made. "Yes. It's cool. And I also like drawing stuff."

I nod slowly. "Alright."

According to her story, she's had some bad experiences with a group of individuals, one of them being Rick. She also spoke of a boy with a cowboy hat, which I suspect to be Rick's son. The Sword Lady doesn't come to mind yet, but I assume she must've been one of Rick's people as well.

As I stare at the girl now, I wonder what really happened to her. The whole story of a dog telling her what to do has lots of holes. She's keeping something to herself she shouldn't.

If the diary is hers, I might be able to complete the puzzle. From what I've read, it's possible that the way she is now wasn't how she was before. Something happened, and if I know what, I might be able to turn it around.

She deserves a second chance.

"Not long ago, I found this journal, of a girl around your age. Ring any bells?"

The girl lowers the cup of soup. Her eyes become glassy, the cup starts trembling in her hands, the substance dripping over the edge. I let her have that moment, slowly take the cup from her hands, place it on the log next to her. The girl blinks, and suddenly she can see again.

"I once had a house. A palace, actually. I used to draw everything on it, and paint a lot as well."

"A palace?" I repeat, and the girl nods excitingly. She seems so much younger than seventeen.

"Yup. My own palace. And I had a garden with veggies, and a bed, and clothes. It was all my palace."

I smile. "That sounds lovely. Why did you leave?"

The girl shuts her eyes. "I don't remember."

She takes her bowl in her hands again and takes a tiny sip. I glance over at my backpack, wondering if I should show her the diary. She ignored my question, as if it was too painful.

"There were people in there as well" she suddenly continues. I nod slowly, and clear my throat.

"Was one of those people perhaps….a man named 'Rick'?"

The girl frowns and purses her lips. "I had a garden, close to my palace. I had all kinds of vegetables there, and sometimes fruits. I like apples. Do you like apples?"

"I do" I answer. She's not looking at me, but pulling at a loose strain of the sweater she's wearing, and biting her upper lip at the same time. "Did you ever consider writing a diary of some sort?"

The girl breathes in through her teeth. "You know, I once threw a party. Thinking all of my friends were going to come. But then I remembered all of them were dead. So we had a dead party. Get it? A dead party?!"

She giggles in a high pitched voice, her breathing fastens. The strain is circling around her index finger, cutting the skin.

"Be careful with that" I say calmly, but she continues, staring at her nails.

"Did you know that I had friends? Once? A long time ago? We had so, so much fun. It was the best time ever." She pauses to giggle again. "So. Much. Fun."

She lets the strain slip through her fingers, her index finger covered in blood. She takes a deep breath and whistles a tuneless melody. "I liked them very, very much. They were lovely."

"Where did it go wrong?" I interrupt her, hoping to pull her back into reality. She doesn't look up, but she did hear me.

"I don't know!" She puts her hands over her ears and starts rocking back and forth. "They laughed and they cried. I ran and they ran too. They were dead they were alive they ran. I was the queen they were nothing. I don't understand why they would do that." She stops rocking, but doesn't remove her hands. Her blue eyes flash in my direction. "Why did they do it?"

I stare at her. Her hand covered in blood, her mouth deformed and hair so dirty it could tie a ship to a dock. It's time.

I lunge towards my backpack, searching with my hand for the small notebook. I hand it to her. She stares at it, but doesn't really see it.

"What's that?"

I nod to it, gesturing she should take it. "Your memories."

She slowly removes her hands from her ears, grabbing the notebook slowly. Carefully, as if it's made of glass, she places it on her lap, bowing over it. "I'm not sure I want it."

I shrug, taking my staff in one hand. "That's too bad, because you're gonna need it to learn the stick trick."

 _Beth_

The hospital bed is nothing but comfortable. Or maybe it's the fact that I've slept for over twenty hours that I can't sleep right now. It's cold in here, and the blankets are thin. I tried to make another blanket out of a curtain, but I was afraid I'd have to work to pay that back as well.

The first day, I didn't really do much. There were some stupid chores I had to do, eat food, go to bed. All the people here are weak. They could fall down easily. But I'm not.

I stare into the darkness. There are bars in front of my window. Not much luck in finding a way out through there. These people are ridiculous.

They say they saved me. From what? I was perfectly fine. We were fine, Daryl and me. These people knocked me out and pulled me into some random car. How is that saving?

Daryl. Poor Daryl. I hadn't seen him around here, so they didn't catch him as well. He's still out there, on his own. Like everybody else.

My sister. Judith. Glenn. Carl. Rick. Michonne. Tyrese. Sasha. Bob. Dan. Vinnie. We're all wandering.

I feel tears burning behind my eyes. No. Stop it. I promised. I wouldn't cry anymore.

I promised Daryl too.

My sniffing is being interrupted by a knock on the door of my room. I freeze, hold my breath. Who would be knocking at my door at this hour?

The person knocks again, and I start to think maybe walkers got in. But it's too relaxed to be a walker's knocking. Did I do something wrong?

Then I hear my name. "Psst! Beth!"

I gulp. There are only a few people who know my name. Only the doctor and Dawn.

"Beth, open up!"

I lean onto my elbow and glance over my shoulder. A silhouette stares through the glass in the door. I frown.

"Daniel?"

The shadow nods, then swiftly looks around the hallway. "Yeah. Open up, before someone sees!"

I nod, even though he can't really see in the dark. I'd put an extra lock on my door earlier, for when walkers would invade the place. My room can't be opened from the outside.

I rush over and quickly let the key slip through the bandage around my pulse. Daniel hurries inside and walks over to the bed.

"It's good to see you…well, I can't really see you, but….you know what I mean."

I smile. "Same here. How did you end up here?"

Dan walks over to the glass in the door and inspects the hall again. The light coming from the hallway shines onto a black eye and a swollen cheek. "Got knocked down, woke up here." He turned towards me again, his face hidden in darkness again. "Same for you, right?"

"Yeah. Just…what is this place?"


	20. Chapter 19

**What?! Another chapter?!**

 **I know, exceptional. I'm trying, ok?**

 **I was pleased to see you all enjoyed the last chapter. I too feel like we're heading into a good, fresh direction with the storyline.**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Morgan_

The water of the river is slowly dancing in the light of the morning. Serene, it's touching the banks, awing the soft surface.

Vicky and I both stand in the cold blanket of water. She's gotten her first staff, which I carved overnight. It's only an early version, she'll get her real one once she's good enough to deserve one.

As things are going right now, that might take a while.

"Remember the first step" I tell her. She sighs, holding her staff in one hand. I give her a soft push with the end of my staff, pushing hers upward. "Both hands."

She rolls her eyes and drops her arms. "This isn't fun. Can we do something else? Like the actual trick?"

I drop my stance. "It's not all about the trick. If you wish to learn how to defend yourself, you first need to learn who you are defending."

Vicky lets the staff fall down and squads next to it. With her fingers, she quietly plays in the water of the river. "You just said it. I'm protecting myself."

I step towards her, taking her staff in my hands. "If things were that simple, you wouldn't need this training. Aikido is much more than just that."

She stands up again, rubbing her hands off her sweater. "I don't care. Just tell me how to kill people with a stick, than we're done and we can both be on our way."

I stare at her, as she grabs the staff out of my hands. Her eyes are violent, and her stance is that of a cornered animal. It's different from the girl running away from her palace.

"You got the wrong idea."

Vicky drops her shoulders. "I don't care. Let's just….get going. You make me nervous with all your 'protecting' and 'spiritual' crap. That wasn't part of the deal."

I sigh. Vicky takes a stance again, but she's too careless. With one swing, I'm able to disband her. The staff flies through the air after I hit it with the end of mine and falls down in a bush not far away from us. "The deal was for you to tell me who you are and for me to teach you the….well, 'stick trick', as you like to call it. I'm keeping my end of the deal. This is the trick."

Vicky stares at me, her jaws grinding. Her left eye twitches a little, and I know she's going to jump me. I tighten the grip around my staff.

Here she comes.

I try not to hit her too hard. Just a tap on the knee is enough to make her fall down. I can't have her losing consciousness.

She falls to her knees, crying out. I squad down in front of her, leaning on my staff. I can look her in the eyes through the curtain of her red hair, and she looks back with fierce blue fire pits. "'Ai' stands for 'harmony'. 'Ki' stands for 'energy', 'Do' means 'path'. 'Aikido' is 'the way of unifying with life energy', not killing."

Vicky blows the red curtain away from her face and grimaces. "Thanks, Wikipedia."

I hold out my hand, as a gesture to help her back on her feet. She ignores it and instead limps towards her staff in the bushes. Maybe I hit her too hard.

When she returns, I spread my arms. "I'm sure you're the type for revenge. So I'm giving you a chance to hit me."

She narrows her eyes in suspicion. "Really?"

I nod slowly. "Just try. Don't hold back."

Her eyes sparkle a little as she grabs her staff with both hands. "Oh, don't worry. I won't."

She lunges forward with a scream, her staff coming at me directly. I take a deep breath, step sideways and evade her attack by pushing her weapon to the other side. She stumbles in surprise as I move behind her, but quickly recovers.

With new courage she comes at me, now coming from above. These are the most difficult to block, and I think she knows that. Yet in a second I manage to push her back with a flat hand and grab her staff. I twist her arm till she lets go.

She steps back, holding her arm. "Screw this."

Vicky starts running and tries to do an air kick. With my staff I push her away from me, and with her staff I hit her on the back. Just a soft tap to speed up her fall into the river.

Face first she enters the cold water, which quickly deepens from the river bank on. She disappears underneath the surface for a short time, before appearing again, desperately breathing for air. She struggles around till she reaches the river bank.

I extend my arm once again to help her up, and this time she accepts. The towel I hand her is also accepted, but with a sarcastic grin.

"Kind of ironic" she says, wrapping herself in the cloth.

"What is?" I ask, while rescuing her staff from a tree. She shrugs.

"You saved me from the water, yet you seem to have no trouble throwing me back in there."

The staff falls into my hand. "It's all part of the training. See it as punishment for disrespecting the ways of this fighting sports."

She rolls her eyes, than throws the towel off her shoulders. "Alright then. Let's roll."

She extends her arm, demanding I give her staff back. I stare at her hand, then back at her. "You sure you don't want to have a break now?"

She shakes her head. "Nope. The sooner I learn that trick the less time I have to waste time here."

I stare at her for a long time, before slowly handing over the staff. Just as it's about to reach her hand, I pull back. "Which the way are we going?"

She sighs. "The one leading to utility with human energy. Now give me that stupid stick!"

 _Daniel_

I spit in the sink, hoping to get that awful taste out of my mouth. I don't know why they assigned me for the job of burning the bodies outside the building. There are tons and tons of other guys who are not as quickly to throw up as me. I guess it's because I can't do much else, and those bodies just can't keep piling up in the elevator shaft.

I sigh, thinking I should probably go back in a few minutes. In the reflection of the mirror in front of me, I see Beth, following doctor Stevens. She's been assigned as his nurse, which is a good thing. I can't have her dying on me now.

With the last sip of water from the bucket, I decide to go back to work. My hand still smell of the sweaty gloves the officers gave me, but I keep telling myself to be happy I have them. They might as well tell me to drag the bodies barehanded.

On my way down to the elevator shaft, I lock eyes with Noah, who stands in a small room checking the medical supplies which just arrived. He jacks his heads towards the side, gesturing me to come in for a sec.

I glance around real quick. All officers are busy with themselves, but I wait for them to enter the cafeteria.

As casual as possible, I sneak in, closing the door quietly. Noah grabs my arm and drags me behind the gantry, which is piled up with boxes.

"Hey man, what's wrong?"

Noah looks anxiously between the piles. "Everything, man. They're getting more greedy every day."

I nod quietly. With the whole walker thing going on and on, resources are getting smaller and smaller. Scavenging isn't as easy as it used to be in the beginning. The only way to survive now is to either steal and store, or grow your own food. And in this system, the first one is the only option.

"How's the shaft looking?" Noah asks. I shrug.

"Bloody as always, but a good landing spot. I'm the only one taking care of the B-section, so the other guys won't notice we're missing some." I look at the pile of boxes in the corner. "How is our supply?"

Noah sighs. "We can only take two backpacks. I can't stuff 'm till the max, because we can't move around like that. We'll be good for about a week."

I clear my throat. "Yeah, about that…."

Noah's expression changes. "What? What is it?"

I look over my shoulder as I see a shadow crossing the storage room. "Well, like….yesterday, someone I know arrived."

"No man. We can't."

The footsteps move along the door, and we stay quiet for a second. I continue explaining while whispering. "It's the new nurse. The blonde one."

Noah's eyes widen. "Beth? No way!"

I frown. "What, you know her?"

He nods. "Yeah, man. We just chatted. You…know her?"

I roll my eyes. "It's nothing like that. We just used to be part of the same group."

Noah sighs. "Let me guess…you want her to come with us? That takes us three more days to gather supplies! And that landing cushion needs thickening too!"

I stand up, patting the dust of my pants. "I don't care. We need her with us. If it was someone from your old group, you'd do the same."

I help him onto his feet, and he grabs the notebook with the stocking numbers again. We're both about to get back to work. "Just…how good is she?"

I feel my ears reddening. "With…what, exactly?"

Noah grabs a pen and writes something down on the papers. "You know, out there."

I'm glad he doesn't look at my face right now. "Oh, yeah…she's great. She can handle herself. She's a better shooter than I am, so that's good."

Noah breathes out through his nose before looking at me. "Alright. Let her know. We'll meet up tomorrow night, your place."

Why, hello, my dear old friend!

The stick trick absolutely sucks. I don't understand any of it. It's all 'philosophy' and stuff I don't understand. Like, can you not? I have a list of people to kill, I don't have time for this bullshit.

And on top of that, Morgan wants me to read my old diary, and at the same time write in my new one. No, that's not confusing at all.

KIDDING! I DON'T KNOW WHAT LIFE IS ANYMORE!

I used to be such a pussy back then. Like ugh. If I could eat myself I'd throw up immediately.

I remember Freddie, though. He was cool and all. Awkward as hell, but cool.

And my dad. Oh, how he would fuck me up with his creepy ghost appearances. And the palace. Jeez, the palace. I loved that place.

I also came to some conclusions while going through most of the pages. Call them hypothesis or whatever, but this is what I understood;

1\. The people I met on the road are the same fuckers from my palace.

2\. Daryl was always a dick, even from the beginning

3\. There's a baby involved, called Judith, but I didn't see her on the road so she's probably dead

4\. There used to be a woman called Lori, and a guy called T-dog, and they're both dead.

5\. Glenn and Maggie are real and I remember them now (Gleggie4evar)

6\. I used to hate Carl, and I still find him annoying, but he's not on my 'to kill-list'

7\. Because of reading that stupid diary, my 'to kill-list' has gotten shorter and shorter because all the people are actually really nice.

8\. There was this guy called 'The Governor', who's a real bitch and I hope someone killed him.

9\. I chopped of a guy's leg and he was really grateful for that. I hope I can see him again and ask him if I can have it. Would make a great souvenir.


	21. Chapter 20

**Nothing compares to you. 'S all I'm saying. :'(**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Beth_

Through the window of the small hospital room I can see Daniel appearing from the elevator shaft again. His clothes are, just like yesterday, stained with blood.

Of course, the elevator doesn't work anymore. Nowadays, under the regime of the police officers, it's used for something else. You can already smell it down the hallway, but the looks are even worse.

A rotting pile of walkers, and even some still alive. From what I've heard, Daniel is one of the few people tasked with burning the bodies outside the building, in the hopes the smell doesn't get any worse. But burning isn't enough. The stank still swarms around these halls.

When Daniel passes the glass door, I try to smile at him. He gives me stare back, slowly nodding his head to a corridor. My smile disappears. He wants something from me.

I glance over my shoulder to the woman I'm currently taking care of. She's sleeping quietly. Doctor Stevens had other patients to attend to. He's not coming back any time soon.

I quietly close the door behind me, and act as if I need to get some more medicine for the patient. The officers all nod at me as I follow Daniel unnoticeably down the hall. He walks a few feet in front of me, and while I'm behind him I try not to look at him. None of the officers, especially Dawn, can know that we know each other. Dawn has no idea what she's doing, but if she finds out she has leverage on either of us, which we can't just 'labour' our way out from.

Daniel goes around the corner, and I try to fasten my pace a little, afraid I might lose him. I pass many rooms in which doctor Stevens might be, but I try not to lock eyes with anyone.

When going around the corner, a hand is put over my mouth immediately. I'm being pulled into a dark room while I try to struggle.

"Just shut up already!" Daniel hisses into my ear. Someone else closes the door behind us, and he finally lets go of me.

"Was that really necessary?!"

Daniel puts a hand over my mouth again. "Yes! Keep quiet, this room isn't very sound proof."

I hear a soft click in the dark, and next a bright light shines into my eyes. Instinctively, I push it away from my face. "Watch it!"

"Sorry" another voice than Dan's answers. I frown.

"Noah? Is that you?"

He moves the flashlight under his chin, the light throwing shadows over his face. "Certainly is."

Another flashlight is turned on. Daniel grabs my arm and pulls me away from the door, which they put a dark curtain over. "Great reunion. Now keep quiet and get going."

"Go where?" I ask, while Daniel drags me into another, even darker room. The flashlight only shows me tables and empty cupboards, as if we're in some kind of classroom.

"Somewhere we can talk freely" is all he mumbles. Daniel leads me through the maze of furniture, which gets more crowded the further we go inside. We stop when we near a door. Dan mumbles to Noah over his shoulder, who steps forward. The clicking sound of a lock being unlocked echoes in the dark and Dan curses softly. He goes into the new space first, I follow, and Noah comes last, closing the door behind us.

Dan sighs. "Where's the light switch again?" A soft click sounds, and suddenly we're blinded by TL tubes in the ceiling. "Forget I asked."

The flickering light reveals three backpacks, two filled with supplies and one half full. Around it stand several bottles and parts of body armour. I frown. "What's all this?"

Dan squads down in front of one of the backpacks. "Our stash. We're breaking out. You in?"

I blink in confusion, and glance at Noah. "You too?"

He nods. "Yup. I was gonna ask you to join us, but…he got to you first."

Dan snorts. "He's lying. He didn't want you here-"

"Woah, hey" Noah interrupts. "Let's keep it friendly, alright?"

Dan shakes his head, and for some reason, it makes me smile. They almost seem like normal guys hanging out. It's been a long time since I've seen anything normal.

Dan's expression quickly changes to serious again, and with that the tiny bit of normal disappears. "Doesn't matter who got to you first. What matters is : are you _with_ us?"

I stare at the guy, who's around the same age as me. When I first saw him, all he cared about was his little brother, and his own life. He would hide behind anyone as he was too scared to face any enemy himself. He couldn't properly hold a gun. If a walker had lost all limbs and would have no chance at catching him in a chase, he would still run for his life.

In the last stages of the prison, he was only depressed. He'd lay in bed all day, wouldn't eat or sleep, and never saw the sunlight.

But right now, I don't see any of that old Dan back in his eyes. I don't know what happened to him, but he suddenly decided to take matter into his own hands. It's strange to see him like that.

But also inspiring.

These people here think they can make us do anything they please. Force us to work for them like pigs. But not anymore.

I nod. "Of course I am."

 _Morgan_

The water is as dark as the night, with only the slight brushes of the moon to lit it up for the weakest eyes to see.

We've exchanged the river bank for a more sheltered spot, between the trees. I can still see the river and hear the water touching the rocks, but no other eyes can see us.

Dinner is a scarce kind of porridge, but Vicky is so hungry she doesn't have time to complain. From what I'd seen this afternoon, she's already recovering a little. The circles around her eyes aren't that dark anymore, and her face sometimes even lights up when she smiles. I don't think she's noticed it herself, but she's coming back.

"Vicky" I say, as she's wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She has her hair pulled in a ponytail, revealing her small face even more.

"What?" she says, a little annoyed I interrupted her. Her bowl is still half full, yet she already licks her fingers like she's finished.

"I'm proud of you" I say, which makes her stop instantly. She drops her hands and blinks.

"R-really?"

I nod slowly. "Yes. You're improving. That's good."

Vicky frowns. "But…I didn't do anything…?"

"Oh, you've done more than you know" I respond. I feel the letter, which she wrote before she jumped into the river I found her in, in the back pocket of my trousers. Maybe it's too soon to tell her my story, if hers is only beginning. But looking at her, I think it's the perfect time. "I…I used to be like you."

Vicky's eyes widen. "No way. Impossible. I'm the only one like me."

I grin slightly. "That's what I thought as well. But you're wrong. There are lots and lots of people out there like you. Seeing the world and everything in it only as potential targets. Things which are in the way of what you want, while you yourself aren't even sure what it is it that you want. You just wander around aimlessly, looking for something to lighten you up a bit. You set a goal for yourself, hoping that will bring you some….clarity." I pause, and suddenly feel the fire of my hideout back at King County behind me as I burned it to the ground. The memory is somehow painful. "It's like a dark well. You're at the bottom, trying to dig even deeper, when at the same time a voice in the back of your mind is telling you to move the other way. The way up. But you don't want to, because you know it's painful. The way up means accepting all the horrible things which happened to you. Accepting the things you've done while digging your way further down the well." I pause again, to take a deep breath. "I lost my wife. I lost my boy. I lost myself. I couldn't climb up. I needed a rope." I glance at my staff, which lays next to me on the ground. "You need someone who can throw you a rope or a ladder to help you come back to the surface. Someone was that person for me, and made me into the man I am today." I look Vicky in the eyes. She's not looking directly at me. Her eyes are fixated on the camp fire, her fingers are fuddling with an old wound on her thumb, but I know she's listening. "You need someone like that as well. And I'd like to be that person for you."

The nail of her index finger penetrates the dried blood on the wound. Blood starts pouring out, but her expression doesn't change. The reflection of the campfire in her eyes makes the flames dance as her eyes slowly become watery.

"You know Rick, right?" she asks after a while. Her voice is soft, almost like a whisper. I nod.

"Yeah, I know him. And you do too."

Vicky rubs the blood of her thumb. "Yes. And I just want you to know that I'm not going to kill him. I'm not going to kill any more people. Just so you know."

Her voice sounds almost robotic, but the emotion pouring from her eyes tells me a different story. She's ready.

"Good" I say after a while. "Because I'm actually looking for Rick and his people. And I think you'd want to see them again as well, right?"

Heyho, what's up yo,

So I had a lovely chat with Morgan (I legit cried) and it was cool. I told him I wouldn't kill any more people, which I'm sincere about. Like for real.

But during my time in this wonderful godforsaken world, I've come across not only people, but also monsters. Or just people whom I consider to be monsters. Who cares about the rules.

My opinion is that these monsters need to be eliminated. Like right now.

And just to point out who these monsters are, I made a 'to kill-list':

1\. Grumpy

2\. The Governor, or whatever he calls himself nowadays

3\. That red haired army guy with a moustache.

I think number one needs no explanation why he needs to die. He's the annoying monster of the group, with his stupid crossbow and stupid slangs. Like fuck off nobody likes you.

The second one is just a douchebag who needs some butt slapping. He thinks he's soooo though, while in real life he's just a wannabe pirate who's looking for a ship. I already have experience with amputating body parts, so if he wants a wooden leg I'd be happy to help him.

The last one is just a fucker I hung out with one time and just went on about this stupid place called 'Washington' (don't worry, I know what Washington DC is, but nowadays it sounds more like a fairy tale land than an actual place, especially the way this guy talked about it). First, he was all like 'oh man we need to recruit you because you're awesome', and next thing I know he's shooting me in the ass and leaving me to die. Like what the fuck I thought we were friends.

These are the legendary monsters that deserve some punching and bullets from moi. According to my old diary, Grumpy used to be a part of Rick's group. Morgan told me he's old pals with Rick, so me killing one of Rick's buds might result in me having to kill everyone, which I'm totally fine with. Because deep down, everyone is a fucking monster.


	22. Chapter 21

**'Allo my friends.**

 **Sweeeeeeet new chapter up again. And the end of this story is also nearing...after this one only four more chapters to go.**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

Hi friends,

So yeah Morgan is like my sensei, my master and super-awesome-dude-friend. He taught me all this stuff about peace and life and everything and I really liked it. I'm more determined to not kill anyone besides the people on my list.

I really like the concentration parts of Aikido. You feel serene and clean and almost reborn. Who needs baths when you have this? It's awesome. When I do it, I don't feel sad anymore.

Other exciting news; Morgan and I are going to look for our common friends together! He's leading me right to Grumpy, which is good. I told Morgan they were all heading for this 'Terminus' place, which I later found out are the same people I mentioned earlier in my previous diary. Apparently I had some agreement with them going on, but I only mentioned it once or twice so it can't be that important. I probably already forgot before leaving the palace.

Like I'd said before, the whole Terminus thing is bad news. I called that very early on, and I was damn right. Morgan said he didn't care if it was dangerous, he had to see that for himself. If Rick decided to go there, he would follow to know why. And he'd been looking for the maps the whole time, the ones leading to Terminus which the people of that place spread out all across the region. They really, really want to meet new friends. Almost pathetic. And kind of creepy (I'll just keep saying it; BAD NEWS MAN!)

The other day, we found another one of those maps, stuck to a random tree. I didn't like following the railroad again because we were too visible, and Morgan agreed. So we decided to continue through the forest. There were a lot of walkers. Like more than usual. Nothing to worry about though, because now I have these awesome stick tricks so everything's cool. Anyway, we found this map, but this one was different. Someone painted a huge 'X' all over it, making it impossible to read. Above the word 'Terminus', someone also wrote 'Don't go 2'. I thought it was really funny, but Morgan didn't laugh. I just thought someone was joking, but he said this was serious. And also that I was right about Terminus being shady. (BOOM SEE I CALLED THAT)

So yeah we're now just blindly following Morgan's guts. Basically walking around following tracks we think are human but could also be a dog's. We're doing great so far, though. And I honestly don't know what we're supposed to do otherwise. We could still check out Terminus, have some fun and then continue. Who knows, maybe I'll run into one of the three on my kill list. I have no idea where to find Abraham, or The Pirate. And where the hell Grumpy's at…..no idea. I'll just stick with Morgie-moo for now.

 _Morgan_

We're surrounded by green instead of water in the sunlight. To say today is a beautiful day might be an insult to the word 'beautiful'. The sky is grey and the forest looks just as grim as the newest map we just found.

Vicky made herself comfortable against a tree trunk, writing down our little adventures in her newest diary. Knowing we now can't move towards Terminus anymore, I suggested we'd take a break and see where we'll go to next. Vicky gladly took this time to journal her way through this.

After a while, she folds up the paper and puts it in a small bag. Numerous of other notes and letters are hidden in there as she has yet to find a fitting notebook to continue in.

"So" she says, standing up. "What're we gonna do?"

I quickly glance over the area we're in. It's no use walking around aimlessly. "We should find a vehicle of some sort."

Vicky gasps and claps her hands together, her eyes sparkling. "Really?! I haven't been in a vehicle since forever!"

Despite the situation, I grin a little. "Me neither. If I'm not mistaken, we're not that far off the road-"

"The regular road, right?" she interrupts. She avoids my questioning eyes.

"No…not a railroad, if that's what you're scared off."

She shrugs. "Alright. Cool with me. Which way?"

Vicky looks around, doing her best not to lock eyes with me. She spins around on one foot, fuddles with her coat and hums a tuneless song.

"Vicky" I say, and she still doesn't look at me. "Did something happen on that railroad?"

Suddenly, her fingernails seem to be very important to her. "Meh not really. Nothing you should worry about." She turns her back on me and starts walking in a seemingly random chosen direction. "This way, right?"

I hesitate to follow. There's something she's not telling me about this railroad. And it's a little disappointing she's keeping thing from me. "Yeah. That way. But-"

Suddenly, I hear something rustling in the bushes. Vicky hears it too and quickly squads down, her staff on the ground. Staying low, I move towards the bushes, gesturing the girl to stay put.

Someone is moving closer, with killing intent. A shadow appears not far away from me, with determined steps. It's isn't a walker.

It's a man with filthy hair and baggy clothes, holding a bloody machete. Judging by his looks, he can't be alone. Because he's part of _that_ group.

I feel a presence coming at me from behind. There he is.

With a scream, he tries to jump on top of me, a knife held high. I turn around swiftly, evading his attack with ease. His partner is now coming at me from the other side, with a machete aimed at the back of my head. With a soft kick I spread his feet shoulder width apart and make him lose his balance. He stumbles backwards, while I take that time to give the other attacker a firm hit on the neck, and he collapses. Just before the remaining attacker tries again, I deliver him the same punch. The back of his head slams against a tree trunk and his body slithers down to the ground.

Vicky jumps up from her hiding spot. "Wow! That was amazing!"

She rushes over to the two unconscious men, throwing her arms in the air again. "Oh man! You didn't even kill them!"

I wish to point out that is the whole point of Aikido, but I'm too occupied with the mark carved in the men's foreheads. It's a 'W'. My suspicions are correct.

Vicky has now noticed them as well. She lowers to her knees to examine it from up close. "That's….weird, but also kind of cool. What does it stand for?"

With a swing I remove the blood splatters from my staff, while stepping away from the two men. "They call themselves 'Wolves'. It's a group of…well, violent men, you could say."

Vicky lets her fingers follow the lines of the letter in one of the men's foreheads, but without touching them. "I see. Not your type, because of the whole 'Aikido-thing'."

I decide not to respond to that. Instead, I place my backpack on the ground and start looking for ropes. We need to tie these men up somewhere, otherwise they'll end up ambushing us again later on.

"Hey Morgan?"

I glance over my shoulder to the girl. Her voice sounds different from before. I see her folding the men's hands into one another, like they've already died. As if they're about to be lied down into a coffin.

"What is it?" I ask. Vicky stares at the two men with eyes containing something I haven't yet seen her showing. It's a strange mixture of sympathy and sadness. But she's still not looking me in the eyes.

"About what you said before" she starts, softly awing one of the men's heads, "about people being…like us."

I step away from my backpack, the ropes still in my hands. She's waiting for me to reply, but she has no idea how far she's come. I'm waiting for her to finish her question before I answer.

Suddenly, the look in her eyes changes. It gets replaced with something which could be considered 'childish pleasure'.

"If they're like us, we should come up with a name for ourselves too!"

 _Daniel_

We screwed up. We really, really did.

After the prison was lost, I thought I was already dead. There was no such thing as surviving on your own. There is only a selected group of people who can survive on their own. People like Daryl, or Michonne. Or Vicky.

Not me.

That's what I believed.

After the collapse of the fences, and the walkers entering the cellblocks, I knew I should've done it. I shouldn't have waited for so long. I had only one bullet left, and I wasted it on some random walker. Didn't even hit the head, but the shoulder. Like that was going to get me out of there.

Eventually, I found a way to escape through a boiler room. I climbed up the window and even crawled into a chimney, until I found a clear shot at running for my life into the forest. During that entire time, I didn't think about it even once. I didn't think about looking for my little brother, whom I told to stay put. I told him I would go back for him, but I guess I just…kind of…forgot.

It was all a rush. I had only a crowbar on me to protect myself, and I barely failed at even doing that. I just kept running, slamming my way through a herd.

When I came to my senses, I realized what I had done. I'd left everyone behind, because I was so scared of dying. The only one I truly cared for was myself. Death seemed so scary I couldn't think of my little brother, who doesn't even know what it means to be alive.

Even with that knowledge, I still didn't return to the prison community. There was nothing left to begin with. From the shed I was hiding in I could see the smoke rising from that disaster. It was already too late to go rescue my brother, if he was still even in there.

I'd never been on my own like that. Scavenging, killing, betraying, threatening. All of it was a rush. Someone else had taken over my body. The real me stood on the side lines, watching, not really wanting to return. So I let the other me take the lead.

And this is what came of it.

Beth didn't even get to step outside Grady. She was recapture just as we'd opened the gates. As I'm running from the hospital, with gun shots and shouting echoing in my ears, I can see only her face. I held her hand, tried to help her through the fences, but she let go.

"Go" her lips whispered. I shook my head. I wasn't doing this again.

But then I saw the first uniforms appearing around the corridor, and my legs started running. But my mind was still in that moment.

And it still is.

I have no idea where Noah is. He injured his leg, so he must still be around somewhere. It's getting dark. I'm alone again. It will only be a matter of time before the uniforms find me again. I've seen them patrolling this particular area over the last few hours. The same car has been circling around the block, the one with the white cross.

Noah is probably dead. Beth will be soon as well.

Maybe it's time to let the other me take the wheel again.

I lean back against the door. This building used to be some kind of flatlet, and the Grady's uniforms must've raided this a long time ago.

This must be it. Just me, with a backpack. Alone. Again.

There's a light underneath the door. See, here they are. They've found me out.


	23. Chapter 22

**Whaaaat only three more chapters after this :( can't believe I almost wrote 76 chapters for this story. Dayum.**

 **(Disclaimer: I still don't own The Walking Dead)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Morgan_

"How about 'Purple Tigers?'"

I refuse to answer. Vicky groans in disappointment. "Maybe…The Chupacabra's?"

This has been going on since yesterday, after our encounter with the Wolves. Vicky keeps naming animals, some I didn't even know existed, and I would almost compliment her on her knowledge and creativity, but that might motivate her even more. We don't need a name.

"Termites? No, those Terminus people might copyright us on that."

Despite the situation, I can't resist to grin. It's already too late to hide, and Vicky gasped. "Ah! So you _are_ human!"

I turn around to look at her. "Excuse me? What else did you think I'd be?"

She shrugged, not letting her mood get ruined today. "Sometimes it feels like you have more in common with a robot. A robot with eastern fighting style. Like a fighting robot."

"A fighting robot? That is your analysis of me?"

We keep walking, still through the forest. The tracks I'd found stopped somewhere far behind, but I didn't tell Vicky that. I'm still a bit uncertain about her motives of finding Rick's group altogether. Sure, she's come a long way, but only halfway isn't enough.

"Yeah" she answers. "I think that's how I think about you. What would your analysis of me be?"

I pretend the ground is rather interesting. "I'm not sure. Somewhere between a child and a girl who's seen the face of death."

Vicky stops in her tracks. "Seriously? Couldn't you say something like 'a warrior princess' or something?"

"You asked for it, I answered."

Above the trees, I see the tip of a building emerging. There is a wooden cross attached to it, which indicates there must be a church nearby. According to the reddish sky, it must be getting dark soon. How convenient it may seem, there is no guarantee it will be a safe place to spend the night.

"Vicky" I say, and she stubbornly looks the other way. "Stay low."

We squat down to our knees and approach the building silently. It is indeed a church. From where I'm sitting, I can see tire tracks on the ground. So there might be people in there. From the outside, it doesn't look like the doors are blocked. One even hangs open a bit, as if the people left in a hurry. The building itself is old fashioned, with the wooden planks painted in a white shade and the entrance existing of two big brown doors. The door handles seem ancient, and the porch seems to have seen many years.

"I'll go check it out" I whisper to Vicky, who's just behind me. "You stay here till I call you out."

I expect her to protest against my plan, but she surprises me by nodding. "Alright, cap."

I try to look her in the eyes, but she's too caught on the sight of the church. She seems more uncomfortable than curious, as if she's not eager to go inside.

Pushing the leafs aside, I make my way towards the small church. Crossing the field, I notice several new graves added to the graveyard. So the people must've left recently. If they are who I think they are, we're getting closer to reaching them.

Pressing my back against one of the closed doors, I'm able to take a peek inside. From what I can see, there doesn't seem to be anyone still alive in there. The walls and long benches seem to have been relocated, creating a big space in the middle, right underneath a small statue of Jesus Christ. The small statue is covered in splatters of blood which I don't think are part of the artwork. Something horrible has taken place inside here, that's all too clear.

Behind the statue, there is a door which I presume leads to the office of the priest. It's wide open, but I still check to see if there's anyone hiding inside.

Inside the small chamber, there is a bed and a desk piled with papers and books. I check every corner, but there is no sign of anyone. This church sure is empty.

Just to make sure, I slam my staff against one of the long benches, to see if there are any walkers still roaming around. Nothing.

Vicky is still hesitant as I gesture to her it's safe. She holds her fighting staff with both hands, her mouth forms a thing stripe, connecting the scar crossing her lips, and her eyes speak of nothing else than concern.

Stepping inside, her eyes immediately go to the statue in the middle. She doesn't cross the doorstep.

"What's wrong?" I ask, as I already sit down at one of the benches. It doesn't look like I can reach her. She's somewhere else with her mind.

"Vicky?" I call out, and her eyes become a little less glassy.

"Do you believe in god?" she asks. I glance at the statue, and back at her.

"Sometimes" I reply after a while. "There are particular moments which are so rare, and absurd, that it might look as if there are powers at work greater than mankind. I mean that in both a good and a bad way."

Vicky nods slowly. "Yeah, I get that. Makes sense." She finally dares to look away from the statue, and even takes a step further inside the church. "But is it a god?"

I shrug slightly. "Don't ask me. I don't think anyone is able to answer that."

Vicky places her staff on one of the long benches close to the entrance. "It must really suck to be a god right now."

"How come?"

She sits down, still far away from the statue, but it's at least closer than before. "I can imagine there are a lot of people who are blaming a god for everything that's happening to them. Losing people and stuff like that, while it might just be their own fault. He probably didn't do anything." While talking, she pulls up her legs and lets her chin rest on her knees. "Poor guy."

She keeps staring at the statue, and I stare at her, wondering how a girl like her, carrying a loads and loads of trauma's with her and mostly mental issues, could still sympathize with something as uncertain as God.

When she catches me staring, she frowns. "What are you spying on me for?"

I shake my head. "Nothing. Let's see if we can find any blankets around here. I think it's best to sleep in here…if that's ok with you."

She shrugs. "Sure. We slept next to each other for the past time anyways….oh, you mean him?" She points at the statue, which still silently watches over us. "Nah, no problem. It's not like we'll get struck by lightning or anything."

I grin. "Alright, I'll take first watch then."

Hi dudes,

Morgie-moo and I found a new place to stay and it's pretty dope. It's like this old fashioned kind of church with statues and bibles and everything. I read some a few passages, but I can't really make out anything of it. It seems a bit like rambling to me. No disrespect, though. It's just not my style.

This afternoon I had a good chat with Morgie-moo. We talked about God and stuff. He says he only believes there is a higher power, but he's not sure if it's a god. And I can relate. Sometimes, when everything's all going to shit and you're fucked out of your mind (not literally) and you think it's all over, there's always this one moment where you're suddenly OK. Like there is someone patting you on the back or something.

I dunno, I'm no believer. Used to be, I think. Can't quite remember.

OH! Other news; while Morgie-moo was taking a look around the area, I went to investigate this little place. Underneath one of the benches (yes, I was very precise about investigating the place) I found an arrow. An actual arrow of the guy called Grumpy. Or Daryl, or just 'Asshole'. He was here, that's for sure. He stayed her for the night, which explains why the smell is so bad in here.

It also means we're getting closer to finding them. We'll just stay here for the night and leave in the morning, but I'd much rather leave now. I haven't told Morgie-moo about it yet, though. I'm not sure what he's thinking of me, I think he still thinks I'm too dangerous to be around. Yet he still is.

But I sometimes catch him looking at me, with eyes where I just can't figure out what he's telling himself in his head. He's not trusting me fully, it seems. Which is bothersome, because I really like Morgie-moo and I'd love for us to stick together for a while longer, but if he keeps judging me like that, I might have to put him on my To Kill-list. And I would hate that. These are kinds of moments I could really use some counselling from another person who doesn't judge me for anything. So I came up with this idea to write a letter to God. Now that we're here anyway, I might as well use this opportunity. I'm writing it down because when I'd say it out loud Morgie-oo might hear me.

Here goes nothing:

Dear God,

Hi. How are you doing? I'm fine, thanks for (not) asking.

I have a bit of a problem. There is this guy, whom you've probably seen walking around with me, and I really think of him as my friend, but I feel like there's something off about him. And he thinks there's something off about me. Great couple, you might say. But that's NOT the case.

I'm genuinely scared he's plotting something against me. And that it will drive us apart. I really treasure his presence and he's so cool, but we might not be fated to survive together.

(Just to be clear: I'm not in love with him or anything. He's more like a dude-friend)

As you are all-seeing, I hoped you might have an answer as to what he is thinking right now. Is he thinking cool stuff about how awesome I am with my stick tricks? Or is he deciding to run away and leave me behind in this church? Is he concerned about me? Or looking for ways to get rid of me?

You might ask 'Well, Victoria, why don't you just ask him yourself?' Well, smartass, that's because I don't know how to. What if I hurt his feelings or whatever? I have a heart too, you know.

I hope you can help me with this situation. I'd really appreciate it.

You can contact me by writing a letter or something, or maybe a burning bush is more your style (so I've heard). Hope you're doing fine up there. Don't worry, I'm sure there are still people who love you. I'm not one of them, though, but I'm sure there are loads of others.

Take care,

Victoria Robson

 _Daryl_

It's all a blur. The moment the woman pulls the gone, I lunge forward. But it's too late.

All I can do is prevent her corpse from falling to the ground. Her head falls back, her eyes roll back. Blood drips down between her blonde hair. She's gone.

There's a lot of shouting as I shoot an arrow right through that bitch Dawn's face. Many other uniforms appear, trying to get a hold of the situation. What they say about mutiny inside the organization all sounds like rambling.

"Daryl." Rick shakes me my shoulders. "You zoned out for a sec."

I blink. We're back on the road, right where we started. Back to the beginning. No cars, no food, no home. No Beth.

"Rick" I say, and he glances over his shoulder from the head of the group. "Imma take a look around."

He looks me in the eyes for a moment, before nodding. He's easy to read. He knows I just need a moment, away from the others.

Away from this.


	24. Chapter 23

**Hi I'm alive don't hate me.**

 **(Disclaimer: I have no money and won't make any off of this.)**

 **Enjoy! :)**

Hellluuuu

New day, new adventures. (Let's make that a thing)

It actually is a new adventure Morgie-moo and I are going on. We left the church this morning, and I left the letter for God so he can read it. I'm kind of on edge now to see if there are any burning bushes. Although I think that's the other God…or are they the same?

Doesn't matter.

What does is that I saw something interesting just now, and I think I am the only one who saw it, because Morgie-moo hasn't mentioned it. I saw something pink between the bushes. Not pink as in a pig or something, or a baby, but like pink clothing. Actually, it looked more like plastic. As in a raincoat, or a poncho.

Anyhow, I saw someone running around the forest wearing a pink/orange/idk poncho from the cheapest brand available. At first I was kind of startled at it because just what. But I don't think Ponchoman saw us. I wondered if it could be anyone I know. I don't think pink is really Grumpy's style, so I'm scratching him off the list (the possibility list, not the To Kill-list, don't worry) It could be Jenny, although the body structure didn't really match hers. Ponchoman was too tall to be Cowboy and he was too fat to be Rick, although a poncho can be deceiving. I mean, you have almost no body in that thing. Also, there wasn't a katana, so it can't be Sword Lady. And that's pretty much all the possibilities, because I don't know what Jenny's sister and the husband of Jenny's sister looks like.

I'm actually considering telling Morgie-moo about Ponchoman, but I also don't want to. We're kind of really close to catching up with everyone and I really don't want to get caught up on bullshit such as a pink poncho.

I think Morgie-moo wants to keep walking now, but I swear Ponchoman is not far. Maybe I should distract Morgie somehow. 'Look, a unicorn!' probably won't do it for him, but I could try it.

Ok, he didn't look.

New plan : I take the lead and lead us as far away from Ponchoman as possible. Wait, no, I don't know where to go. I mean, my tracking skills are shit. Morgie isn't that great either, but he feels aura or something. At least he's more certain on which way to go.

Shit, why is this so hard?

Omg, I think Morgie saw Ponchoman. Yup. He spotted him.

Oh great, now he wants to follow the man, because he's 'in danger'. C'mon, dude. We're so close! And it's getting dark soon! Why would you go out of your way to safe a stranger?

Oh wait. He saved me too.

Damnit, Morgie!

 _Morgan_

"I think he went over here."

"I think we shouldn't care."

I ignore Vicky's remark to the best of my abilities. She seems more tense than yesterday, and I think it's because we're getting closer to Rick's group. And I'm not sure I'll be able to talk her out of her plans.

Which is why I'll try to hold her off a little longer. This guy in the poncho is perfect.

"Stay low" I say. There are a few lights ahead of us. Seems like some kind of construction site. And it's seemingly filled with walkers. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Stay here" I whisper. Vicky groans in disagreement, but thank god she listens. Crouching forward, I near something which looks like a fence. I narrow my eyes, because this looks an awful lot like a place I've been before. If this is the Wolves again…

As I near the fence, I rise to my feet. There's no point in hiding out. The pink poncho I'd been following around is now walking among a herd of walkers, who casually stroll around a few trucks which used to contain food supplies. There is no living soul around besides me and-

"Hey!" Vicky's voice triggers my fighting stance. I hear leafs rustle and heavy footsteps. With the little light coming from the parking space, I see two silhouette's nearing, one a little bigger than the other. The last one is carrying Vicky as if she's nothing but a back of potatoes.

"Morgie-moo! It's the asshole! He took my stick!" Vicky cries out. The first silhouette is of a man seemingly in his thirties, holding a gun in a non-practiced manner.

The second shadow, however, is carrying a crossbow in one hand and Vicky by her hairs in the other. He throws the girl in front of my feet and aims his crossbow right at her face.

I quickly step between the two, and with one swing disarm the man with the crossbow. The arrow loses grip and falls into the grass.

The man narrows his eyes at me, hiding behind dark hair. "What the shit?"

From the corners of my eyes I can see Vicky crawling back, further away from the men. "That's Grumpy."

I frown a little, but don't look away from the crossbowman. The other guy looks a bit confused as to what is going on, and keeps his small gun warily in his hands.

"Do you even know who you're travelin' with?" the man spits in my face, and his eyes lock at Vicky, who managed to get back on her feet.

"Oh, I know" I answer calmly. "Do you?"

"Daryl" the other man interrupts. "Can you tell me what's going on here?"

Daryl, as I assume the man is called, doesn't respond, but looks at Vicky, then back at me. "She tried to kill me more than once. I gotta return the favour, whether you like it or not."

I take a deep breath. "I'm afraid Imma have to stop you with whatever I got."

A low grunting sound emerges from Daryl's throat which tells me he doesn't like that one bit. "Fine by me."

He takes a step back, placing another hand on his crossbow. I tighten the grip around my staff, and quickly glance at the other man. He's still confused, and doesn't even have his finger on the trigger of his small gun. He's nothing to worry about now.

"Morgan!"

Vicky's voice suddenly interrupts, but I can't afford to look behind me.

"Just…wait."

Even Daryl seems confused as to what Vicky is planning. She sounds very certain about something, and that is strange. Daryl even removes his hand from his weapon and looks straight at her, from which I can assume Vicky is staring at him.

"Where's Jenny?"

I know that name. It was in the letter she wrote before jumping into the river. It's one of the few people she didn't want to murder, and she actually seemed to care about.

Judging from Daryl's expression, Vicky hit a nerve. He's turning pale as a sheet, and his eyes widen a little. He licks his lips, as if what he's about to say will be tough on the both of them.

"Dead."

 _Daryl_

The first thing the crazy one does is blink her eyes a million times, until they become glassy.

Beth might've been the only person she really liked. And Beth, well, despite all the things Vicky ever did to her, still somewhat considered her a friend. I think that even after Vicky hurt _me_ and ran off afterwards, Beth still worried a bit about the crazy redhead. Wondered where she'd be, if she was even alive.

Well, here she is. Alive and well, with some kind of wizard as a friend. Shouldn't really make fun of it though, because he is dangerous with that stick of his.

Vicky then falls to her knees in shock. If I wanted to, I could shoot her right now, not even Gandalf here would be able to block it.

"Daryl." Fucking Aaron. Can't shut up for one fricking second.

"What" I reply, but don't turn away. This samurai could knock me out easily if I don't watch out.

"Who are these people?"

I snort. "They ain't potential candidates, I can tell you that."

Vicky's new pal frowns, and takes even stronger hold of his stick. "Candidates for what?"

Without seeing it I know Aaron's opening his mouth about Alexandria, but I make sure he doesn't.

"Don't say it."

The guy narrows his eyes at me, still holding his staff-thing very close. "Daryl, right?"

I curse Aaron for being bad at these kind of situations. "None of your-"

"Do you know a man named Rick Grimes?"

Aaron immediately drops his gun, which is a total dick move. So what if he knows Rick. Vicky could've told the guy about him.

"So what if I do?"

The man seems a little more at ease for some reason. His shoulders relax, although his stick is still tense. "The name's Morgan. I'm an old friend of Rick's. He told me I'd always be welcome at his home, since I opened mine to him."

Somewhere I do recognize the name 'Morgan'. Rick might've told me about it a long time ago, about how a random guy saved him and patched him up and basically told him everything he needed to know. Somewhere at the beginning of it all.

If _she_ wasn't present, I would've take him with us immediately. But that stupid redhead just had to make everything complicated. Another reason why she needs to be eliminated. Everything she touches just turns into a mess, and we're always the ones having to clean it up after her. But not this time.

"Then why is she here?" I ask, nodding towards the statue of a redhead. She's literally not moving at all.

"I met her on the road, in a state I assume you're familiar with" Morgan says, although he doesn't seem proud about it. "Since we were looking for the same people anyway, I thought we might as well travel together."

"So you don't know shit" I reply. He doesn't, yet this asshole smiles. Morgan places his stick on the ground, which looks to me like he's giving up.

"Oh, I know all about it" he grins. "Too much, actually. And she agreed to change her course of plans, right Vicky?"

I stare at the redhead, who suddenly seems to be waking up. Her eyes are still glassy, which doesn't tell me much good.

"Y-yeah" she answers softly. "I do actually."

"What is your plan exactly?" Aaron asks. This guy just doesn't know when to shut up. Now, for example, would've been a good time.

Vicky seemingly just notices he's around too. I know I should've killed right when I saw her. So why didn't I?

The redhead crosses her arms, and she turns back into her normal self. The crazy self. "Well, my first intention was to kill Grumpy over there, but….I mean, Jenny, dude. She's dead! That's so unfair. Like, for real."

That stupid voice makes me tighten the grip around my crossbow. Seriously, she should shut up now or else I'll-

"Judging by your appearance" she continues, searching Aaron with her eyes from tip to toe, "you've probably got a base somewhere close. And you don't mind taking Morgie-moo there, which I'm fine with. But me? Nope. And that's ok. I'll stay here."

Now Morgan finally dares to turn around. "What?"

Vicky nods as if she's proud of her decision. As if she can get away like this. Not gonna let that happen. "Yeah, it's cool. I mean, living on the road sucks, and you know it. Just go with them. I bet Rick will be happy to see you. Not me, though. And Grumpy over there can't wait to kill me….or can he?"

That's it. While Morgan wasn't looking, I managed to reload. Before that bastard can turn around, I already have a good aim. And without hesitation, I pull the trigger.


	25. Chapter 24

**Aah, almost the last chapter. Damn. That means the end of a fanfic that took me almost four years to write. Crazy...**

 **(Disclaimer; I do not own TWD)**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

 _Rick_

Looking around our people, I see some who see the emergency in this situation. All the time we knew she was still out there, but we didn't think she'd be able to catch up to us after Terminus.

Well, not on her own at least.

"You said you knew what her intentions were" Michonne says, leaning over the table towards Morgan. My old friend hasn't moved an inch ever since we brought him inside our house for 'questioning'. Across from the table sits Deanna, whom I briefly informed what the situation was. Standing next to her, I can tell she doesn't seem to understand any of it, but then again; I can't blame her. Just the night before, her husband was killed.

Morgan nods shortly. "I did, and I also knew how to change her mind."

Michonne locks eyes with me for a second. We both call bullshit on that. No matter how innocent she looks, there's always something that triggers her insanity.

"What makes you say that?" Carol asks, who stands at the other side of Deanna. Carol seems the most tense out of everyone. She keeps fuddling with the end of her sleeve.

Morgan taps his index finger on the table. "I thaught her how to control herself. And she's been an excellent student so far-

"We also thought she had everything under control" Michonne interrupts, her voice trembling with anger, "until she knocked me out cold and ran off, while walkers were closing in on us."

I frown. She'd never told me the part of walkers getting involved. Typical, for both of them.

Morgan only nods slowly. "I think I read about that, yes. In her letter, I mean. That's a few hours before she tried to commit suicide."

I can see Deanna pouting her lips, which suggests she's having second thoughts. Morgan sees it too, and directs his next words at her. "She jumped off a cliff into a river, with a letter directed to everyone she'd ever hurt."

"That's easy to say" I mumble. Morgan doesn't take his eyes off Deanna, and I know he's trying to get through to her. I just hope Deanna doesn't forget we just got rid of one psycho. We can't have another one in here.

Deanna clears her throat, and all I can do is wait. "How would you say she's… 'recovered'?"

Morgan grins slightly. "I'd tell you that she's learned about the importance of defence opposite to offence. I thaught her nothing but defence, she's unable to hurt anyone unintentionally, which seemed to happen very often before I stumbled upon her. See…I went to something similar as her. I mean, Rick, you've seen what I was like."

I gulp. Of course I do, how can I forget. Seeing someone that strong in a devastated state of mind is something I'd never forget.

"Yeah" I reply.

Morgan nods. "I've come a long way since then, all because there was a person who could help me. I wanted to be that kind of person for Vicky, and I think I succeeded. She's protected me all the way to here, which to me sounds like more than a sympathetic person. She's recovered."

Deanna nods slowly while listening. "Would you say she might be an asset to this community?"

I freeze. Has she lost it? I can see Michonne thinking the same.

Morgan waits before answering, taking all his words into consideration. "I think it would be fair to give her a chance, yes."

Deanna folds her hands together. "A chance? Mister Jones, I don't think we're having this conversation to 'consider' giving this girl a 'chance' to enter our community. We're done giving people 'chances', unless they contribute to the community in some way. What would you say could be the one thing only this girl is able to give the community?"

I'm not sure what Deanna is planning. After all I've told the woman, she still considers every option, while the situation inside Alexandria isn't that dire. What is she doing?

Morgan smiles. "Well, I know something both Rick and Michonne here know as well."

I frown, and fee Deanna's turning to look at me. I myself look back at Morgan, because I have no idea what he's talking about. He only continues to smile mysteriously.

"The both of you might've seen bite marks on her body, ain't that right?"

I can see Michonne's getting nervous. She was the one person who told me Vicky was bit, but this was many weeks ago. Morgan told us he'd met up with Vicky about three weeks before, which should be impossible. She should've already turned by then, but she didn't. And I remember Daryl telling me the same thing; seeing bite marks that looked healed.

"I take that as a yes" Morgan continues, looking back at Deanna. "I think Vicky is somehow immune to the bite of a walker. Her contribution wouldn't only be to this community, but also the rest of the world. If I'm correct, you do have some medical personnel inside this community, correct? With Vicky's undamaged body, we might be able to find out more about the walkers."

Deanna gulps, and I know we lost the battle here. If it weren't Vicky, I would've brought the first person found immune to walker bites, in the second I heard about them. But this is _her_ we're talking about.

"Yes" Deanna starts, "we do have medical personnel here. If what you say is true…I'll consider letting this 'Vicky' enter the community for the sole purpose of research."

All I can do is close my eyes in disgust. That damn Daryl. The one time he could've had a perfect shot, he misses.

 _Danie_

"They've been in there for a long time, haven't they?"

"Yup."

"What do you think Deanna's gonna say?"

"I don't know, Dan."

"Do you think….do you think they'll let her in?"

"I don't know, Dan."

"What if they don't…do you think they'll kill her?"

"I don't know, Dan."

"Do you-Oh!"

Abraham stomps me on the head. "Shut your mouth-hole, man."

I rub over the back of my head. I get that everyone is nervous about this whole thing, but I don't really get all that. Before Vicky left, everyone was still cool around her. No one in particular besides Daryl wanted her dead.

I only heard a bunch of stories from others who bumped into her on the way here, and Vicky didn't seem that dangerous to me. I mean, it was always clear she disliked Daryl a lot, and I think Michonne had it coming. But I don't say that out loud.

The one I was asking the questions is Glenn. He can't sit still and keeps tapping his feet on the porch. Inside the house, Deanna, Rick, Michonne and Carol are deliberating with the new guy, Morgan. I only slightly remember him from a few months back. From when he was still insane. He's supposed to be all better now. Then he's come a long way from stabbing Rick to helping Vicky.

Glenn isn't the only one nervous. Abraham is freaking out as well, for some reason. He's never met Vicky in person, but he keeps locking eyes with Rosita, who rolls her eyes away from him, leaving Abraham helpless. I don't think they're on good terms or something.

Ever since we met up with the group again, after months of traveling alone, I couldn't possibly think all of us had survived somehow. Maybe thinking that was an understatement, because these people here knew what survival was all about. The only one who didn't happened to be my little brother. He travelled a long way with Glenn and Tara, and also with Abraham, Rosita and Eugene. They were all there when he died, and now, for some reason, feel like they have to take care of me in return. Especially Abraham, who pushes me to take some more shifts at the watch tower and also learn how to properly aim with a gun. I appreciate the gesture, but I know how it works.

Everyone who's ever dealt with Vicky, plus Abraham and Rosita, are here on the porch of Rick's house, but I think Abe and Rosita are here for me. The only ones missing are Daryl and Aaron. I believe Aaron is at home, but no one has a clue where Daryl is.

Apparently he's too embarrassed to show his face after missing a clear shot at Vicky, and letting her get away. Or he's still out trying to catch her again.

Finally, the door of the house opens. Everyone sitting down quickly stands up. Rick and Morgan are the first ones stepping outside. Rick's face stands grim, while Morgan seems kind of neutral. They look around the group, and the situation seems more and more awkward.

"Where's Daryl?" Rick asks no one in particular. No one replies instantly, although it's not a rhetorical question.

"We don't know" Glenn eventually says.

 _Daryl_

Squatting down, I take a good look at the trail. It's almost unnoticeable, but she's not very good at covering her tracks. She knows I'm out to get her, and it would seem more likely for her to lead me directly to her. But this looks like she's desperately trying to run away.

Doesn't matter. I won't miss this time.

She's heading east, opposite from the community. I'm not sure if it's intentional, or she just doesn't know where the hell she's going. After I fired the shot, she was gone so quick I couldn't see if she saw where we were heading.

I couldn't leave Aaron alone with this Morgan-guy, and I wanted to go back out as soon as we were back in Alexandria. But apparently Rick killed a guy and Deanna's husband was dead and shit was going down. I lost an entire night to that shit.

When all was good again, I made sure I was the first one at the gate. Neither of Sasha and Abraham was standing guard, which worked in my favour. I couldn't have them asking questions as to where I was going.

I hear something moving behind me. I lay down flat in the leafs, then look over my shoulder. No walkers, maybe a small animal.

Standing up again, I suddenly see something red. There she is, finally. She stopped running.

As silent as possible, I manage to get closer. She's sitting against a tree, writing something down on a paper. As If I'd ever find her doing anything but that.

Leaning with my elbow on the ground, I can get a clear shot.

Dear Jenny,

I heard you died, which is a real bummer. I was actually hoping we could somehow meet up again and, well, I dunno, chat? Do fun stuff, you know.

Grumpy didn't tell me the exact details, but just looking at his face I know it was something you didn't deserve. He's absolutely devastated, and I don't think that ever since you were gone he's even slept a single night.

Well, why should I care? That's probably what you're wondering right now, why do I bring this up? I just want you to know that he clearly misses you. And I do too, kind of.

Why is that? Here's the thing; I had a dream last night, about you and me. We were both at this weird grey building, with lots of dark and scary halls with cells in them, which is why I thought it was a prison. I'm not sure why I would dream about us two going to prison, but oh well. We weren't really inmates or anything, it actually looked more like we were somehow living there.

We were sitting at this strange-looking picnic table, talking and laughing about things which happened before the walkers came. It was a really cool dream, don't you think?

And for some reason, I feel like the conversation in my dream was the kind of thing I wished to do again. Perhaps the dream wasn't just a dream, but a memory. If it is, I will cherish this memory forever. You might've been the only real friend I've ever had in this entire world.

So it sucks that you're gone, Jenny. Sorry, I know that's not your real name. You're Beth Greene, daughter of Hershel Greene and a sister to Maggie Greene. Yeah, I know you. But only you. These names are engraved into my memories, but I don't know the faces that belong to them. They're nothing but words, which is why I prefer to keep calling you Jenny. To me, Jenny used to be my favourite teacher in middle school, the only person I really liked. In this apocalypse, you were the new Jenny.

Funny thing, isn't it? How words can have different meanings to everyone. To me, 'Jenny' sounds special. 'Grumpy' is the kind of person I find annoying, but can be funny sometimes. 'Cowboy' is a boy stuck in a world to great for him to handle, he'll always be just a boy somewhere, but he tries. 'Sword Lady' is a strong woman I look up to and want to learn from.

This doesn't mean that the people I don't give special names aren't important to me. If I call them by the names given to them by their parents, it means they try to cling to the life they had before all this, and because of that they're lost. They don't know who they are themselves, what their place is in this world, or what they're doing.

But you knew.

Now that you're not around anymore, I need to find a new Jenny. Sorry, but you can't wear that title if you're dead.

But you'll always be the second Jenny of my life.

Much love,

Vicky


	26. Chapter 25

**Not only have I been very, very busy, I also had no idea how to end this story. This fic has meant a lot to me throughout its run, and I'm definitely ready to end it once and for all, but am just not sure how to. This is what it ended up to be.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has stayed around up to this point and for leaving your sweet reviews. It's been a good run.**

 **(Disclaimer: I'm not crying rn)**

 **Enjoy, one last time! ;)**

 _Daryl_

I can't really get any closer, or else she'll notice me. Making sure I have stability with my crossbow, I take aim.

A shiver runs down my spine as the realization kicks in that I'm about to end the worst nightmare of this apocalypse. So much shit hung around this specific girl. She's a magnet for bad fortune.

She's done writing. She folds the paper, and puts it in the back pocket of her jeans. She then sighs.

"Jeez, cut it out already" she says out loud. Then she turns her head and looks straight at me. "Just take the shot. You've come so far already, would be a waste if you missed again."

"You heard me comin'?"

She rolls her eyes, and for some reason it seems appropriate for the situation. It's something a normal person would do. "Not that hard to miss. Ha, get it?"

Still holding my crossbow in front of me, I stand up. As always, Vicky doesn't seem the least threatened.

"Why are you hesitating, Grumps? Have you grown soft?"

"Shut up" I say, as I step closer. "Imma just give you a chance to say your final words."

Vicky stares at me for a second, her bruised upper lip slightly raising. Then she bursts out laughing, throwing her head back. She's very loud, but I refuse to look around. Getting ripped apart by walkers seems more fitting for her anyway.

"Seriously? It's come down to this?" she manages to say after a while. "Last time you didn't even flinch."

"That's your choice?"

She raises one eyebrow. "I didn't say that. I was asking you a question. And now I have a theory; I think you missed on purpose."

I snort. "I don't miss when I don't have to."

"Then why did you, smartass? Was it because you needed a private chat with the girl herself? Because, well, I'm all ears now. Oh, and also…" She stands up, and I immediately change the aim with her. She looks at the crossbow, still not impressed, and then takes the note she'd been writing from her pocket. "Could you post this, please?"

She holds out the paper to me. I look at it, and then back to her. "Are you shittin' me?"

She frowns. "Ah, no? How would that work, exactly? Wait, don't wanna know….just, take this to the mailman, alright. If you're giving me a final wish anyway, please grant this one."

I still don't move. She doesn't seem to be joking, and I'm starting to think she reached the highest level of insanity.

Vicky sighs. "Come on, Darlene. Pay some respects."

The stupid nickname sure screws me over, and she sees it. "Shut up."

"Then shoot!" she responds. "You're dragging this out way too long. I'm ready. It's selfish to wait any longer."

I have my finger on the trigger, but I can't move it. "How is it selfish?"

Vicky grimaces. Without any concern about the weapon pointing at her, she spins around on one foot. "You need me."

"Say what?"

"What."

Vicky sits down on the ground, her legs crossed. I follow her movements with my crossbow, but still don't shoot. This is an uncomfortable situation, yet I can't ended it.

"Look, Dary-doo, the thing with you" she continues, "is that you sometimes just need someone to tell you what an asshole you are. And I recently, as in yesterday, when I fell on my head and regained my memories, discovered that I am the perfect person for that job. And you know that too."

"Wait, you remember?"

"I sure do. And…" She stands up. It seems that she for the first time sees the danger of a crossbow. She stares at it and carefully examines it, while continuing to speak. "…I would just like to apologize for stabbing you earlier. And for running off. Well, I'm more sorry that Beth had to be stuck with you because of me. Back then, the thought of you dying was kind of soothing, because I didn't like you very much, and for your information; I still don't. Back then, it wasn't intense hate or anything, which is, for some reason, considered to be more normal when wishing someone dead. Back then, I didn't understand why you were so distant and douchebaggy to me all the frickin' time. But I liked Beth. I really liked Beth. And although I would have loved for you to die then, I also knew that Beth would be alone. And I didn't really think she would survive, not even if she stayed with me."

She paused to sigh. "Turns out neither of us was able to keep her save."

I'm not sure where she's going with this.

"Well, then" Vicky grumbles, "now that we've got the emotional part out of the way, we can move on to the real reason you're not able to pull the trigger." She turns her eyes towards me. "You ready?"

I don't respond. Vicky shrugs her shoulders, steps towards a log and sits down. "Feel free to sit."

I stay quiet. Vicky rolls her eyes again, and almost looks like a normal teenager.

It hits me that I might be one of the few people still alive to have known the normal teenager version of Vicky. Her niece, Katy, has been long gone and we have no idea where she went. Merle and I killed her father, and if I remember it correctly, her uncle lay in the room next door.

I can still faintly see two blue eyes in the dark of the attic of the house. That desperate look. Now that I think about it, the first time we saw Vicky in the prison, she looked kind of similar to back then. We were kind of weirded out by her hospitality, which is a normal response, considering what happened a few months later.

It just looks like she needs someone.

"You got a cigarette?"

I frown. She doesn't look like a smoker-kind-of-person. I don't care whether people smoke or not, that's all their own business. And the fact that she's a minor doesn't bother me either. It just doesn't seem right.

"You must have some on you" Vicky continues. "Just one. I wanna try."

Then it hits me. I snort. "You wanna try because you're gonnna die?"

"That rhymes with pie" she responds. "You should be a poet, like William Wordsworth. I like him. But do you have a cigarette?"

Cigarettes are hard to find these days. And they're also in my chest pocket, which is difficult to open with one hand. Which means I have to put down my crossbow if I want to get them.

Wait.

Why am I even considering?

"Sorry" I say. "They're rare."

Vicky sighs in disappointment. "Man, I was really curious. I've kind of wanted to try one for a while. I wanna try many other things. Can you describe a cigarette to me? Or what it's like to be super drunk? What is the stupidest thing you did while drunk? What's your favourite drink? You kinda look like a beer-kind-of-guy that drinks wine when with his girlfriend. Oh, I know a girlfriend of yours. Annabel, right? She's lovely. Can't really understand how the hell she ever ended up with a dude like you, but oh well, everyone has their taste, no? You know what I've always wanted to try? Roasted cockroaches. No idea if that's a thing, but if it were that would save a lot of trouble. You know how Simba in The Lion King only lives off of bugs because that's all Timon and Pumba eat? I always wondered how Simba was able to grow so strong. Maybe it's a secret formula; if you only eat bugs for a few years you turn into a lion with red manes. Well, I kind of am half way there, but I haven't been eating bugs. Morgan has been taking good care of me. Not that you would care. But I hope you will all take good care of Morgan, because he's very sweet, and kind of fragile. You'll see what I mean, just watch. And if you're an asshole towards him, I'm sure Morgan will be able to teach you a lesson or two. He has taught me a lot, and I hoped he would teach me some more, but oh shit here comes that boy with his crossbow. Kind of sucks, now that I think about it. Oh well. Just tell everyone it's been a good run, and that I would've loved to stay longer, but that I went to bed early, while I secretly snatched my laptop with me under the blankets and watched anime all night. That sounds like heaven to me, although I don't think you know what anime is. I mean, look at you. You're basically a bear morphed with a tree. You're nature, not technology. I don't know what I am, though. Probably something weird like a frog, or something. I like green. Did you know that the opposite colour of green is red? That's right, my hair colour. Crazy, am I right? Everything is connected somehow. I mean, us being here now has been caused by multiple events following each other, which is called the butterfly effect. Did you know that? I learned about it in high school. Not from a teacher, though. There was this random dude who was all into these conspiracy theories. It didn't matter what word you'd say, he'd always have something about it. He once tried to convince me that penguins are actually aliens. That's awesome, right? I sometimes wonder what happened to that guy. If he made it out somehow, if he's still alive. I guess I'll find out once you've shot me. Wait, how does that work? When you die, do you just randomly come across the spirits of the people you loved but died before you? Or do you have to go looking for them yourself? Because that sounds like a pretty difficult job and I'm not really feeling that. I'm kinda lazy. So maybe not shoot me, please. No, scratch that. Just do it already, my mouth is starting to get dry from all this talking. But, no, wait, I still have so many things to do and to say and I wanna dance and I have a dream that one day…."

At this point, her tears make it unable for her to continue speaking. Timing has never been my strong suit, but I know I should do it now. She's done for.

"Wait" she says when she has her breath back. "How's Maggie? How tall is Carl now? Does Rick have a real beard now? And does Daniel still piss his pants? Wait, wait wait wait….Vinnie! Where is he? And Glenn! Glenn, where are you? Oh my god, my girl Michonne! Where she at?! Damn, Tyrese though! And Sasha, and, and…you! How are _you_ doing? How's everything? Got any good-"

I hit her in her right eyeball. Her body shakes for a while, and for two seconds she still stands on her feet. Then her knees give out.

I catch her before she hits the ground. Her red hair and pale skin make the blood look even more red. I sit down, lay my crossbow beside me.

The reason I am crying is not because I regret making this decision. She said it herself; she was tired. We were all tired of this whole mess.

And she was also right by saying that I needed her somehow.

I needed a mirror which could tell me what I would become if I would ever leave Rick's side. And now it's over.

Because I've been searching for the rest of the group, of this family, for months and months. And I found them. And I'm not gonna let anything happen to them.

Vicky cared deeply for all these people, and I think that if she was able to think straight, she would ask me to do anything to keep them save. It didn't matter if she were alive or not; she wouldn't be able to.

"I buried her somewhere in the woods" I later tell Rick. "No idea if she wanted that. Don't really care."


End file.
